Alternate Fate
by TheWorldTimeForgot
Summary: A Half Serious-Half Parody OC Story. This is the tale of a boy whose soul was reborn into the body of a Plegian Bandit. How will he survive in a world with time travelling daughters, masked swordsmen, legendary weapons of... legend, a meta-gaming jerk and zombie nuns with axes?[Formerly titled "The Butterfly Effect Rebuilt]
1. Prologue: Dawn

**"I do not own a single thing. Intelligent systems does."**

**Yeah, this is the Aforementioned Remake of the Butterfly Effect. After I break through the initial rewritten opening, I'll probably be able to speed up a bit. The first half of this chapter is pretty much the same, but the ending is different. After this chapter, everything will be brand new until Luso once again joins the Shepherds. After that it will speed up as I edit and revise my work, and then after I finish doing all of my previously written stuff, it will slow down once more. **

**Anyways Review, even if you hate this damn thing! I need the flames as much as the praise! And Slog through the traditional Self insert mechanism!**

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_"I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens."_

_― Woody Allen_

"Huh? Where am I?"

"You have died, and are awaiting judgment."

"Is there any reason why I don't have a body?"

"Did I forget to mention you died, Luke Heartwell?"

"Huh?"

"Luke Heartwell, captain of the Kendo team, Cellist, don't think you can sneak out of this one. By lying or by skill you will not escape death. Get used to it. Cry all you want. Nothing is going to change. And if I hear a request for a chess board, you are going down."

"My name is Luso Brenner. There has got to be some kind of mistake!"

"..."

"..."

The world reformed before him. The voice that had spoken was no longer a voice but a young business man. In his right ear was a small dark blue earpiece and in his left hand was a small tablet computer of sorts.

At the same time, his own body was being formed from the dust surrounding the area. Piece by piece came together and formed into a new whole. When his eyes were formed he could see. When his arms and legs were made he could walk and clench his fists. The body he had was new, and completely alien to him. It was strange.

The man sighed and fiddled with his tablet. Without a hint of emotion, he said. "Explain yourself, Luke or Ludo, or Luso, or whatever your name is."

"Who are you?"

"I go by many names. Death. The Phantom of the Rift. The Grim Reaper. Choose one, and speak."

"What is this, what happened? Did I die and come back to life? Is this reincarnation or something?"

"Don't be arrogant in thinking you are alive. All that is is a spiritual body, I can dispel it in a blink of an eye. Tell me who you are, and I may just reconsider."

"My name is Luso, Luke is a boy from my school. I once practiced the epee and the foil, I never practiced martial arts. I don't play the cello but I do play the Violin."

The businessman was silent, scouring for any trace of the boy lying. Unable to find a single one, he shouted. "You're lying!"

"I'm not! If you make a mistake you apologize, not attack the person you wronged. By god, even children know that at least." Luso said indignantly.

"Oh? And a human is lecturing me? Like a mortal has ever not made a mistake!"

"You're sending an innocent soul to the afterlife before his time! I DIED because of you."

"You think that's bad huh? Death? I'm going to get fired because of you! My boss is going to use the sickle that I use to reap souls on me!"

Luso burst into laughter. "The grim reaper, wears a pinstriped suit, and is worried about his boss killing him!"

The man started to grow red in the face and shouted, "This is no time to be joking around fool! I'm going to lose my job, and you're dead! What are you going to do about my job?"

Luso shrugged. Honestly, he should have been terrified but the situation was so ludicrous, so inane that he could not take it seriously to begin with. It almost seemed like dream. He was speaking to death of all things! "There is no need for anyone to know about this, you know." Luso said. "Couldn't you just stick my soul back into my body?"

"Are you really going to be flippant with death? My lord in heaven, make the humans more polite! The problem is, Luke Heartwell was supposed to die in a car accident!"

"I don't have a license! I'm fifteen! My parents didn't want me to get a permit!"

"That isn't the problem nitwit! The problem is that you have a prearranged death, and I already set it up. Here! I'll show you!"

The reaper snapped his fingers, and the pure white scenery changed to an image of a street. His mother's sedan was smashed into... something. The front bumper was crumpled, the window in front of the driver was shattered, apparently from the driver being thrown from the vehicle, and broken glass lay across the front side of the broken car.

Lying prone next to a tree smeared with blood was a hunk of meat, twisted beyond recognition. Luso covered his mouth as he floated towards the corpse. He couldn't even tell where the face was!

The reaper tapped his tablet's display twice before rattling off a bunch of statistics. "Head turned back 176 degrees, arms broken, ribs crushed, broken and scattered into various organs, heart and spleen ruptured, and digestive tract exploded. Although I can place a soul in a body that thing isn't going to hold one any time soon."

This dream was getting stranger by the second. Maybe he ate something bad the night before? The only thing he knew was that something in the picture dropped a heavy weight in the pit of his gut and there was only one person he could displace his anger onto.

"Calm down, violence will solve nothing." The reaper muttered.

"Calm! You sent my body driving in a car at god knows what speed-

"132 miles per hour. Without a seat belt."

"And made it look like that! And you want me to be calm!"

"Like I said! Wait! Just stick around with me, and when a millionaire or someone like that is assigned to me I can stick you in his body. I know you want your body back, but that's impossible. I'll do my best for you, understand?"

Luso hesitated for a second before loosening his grip on Death's shirt. There wasn't any purpose in getting so irritated in a dream. He'd wake up the next day and everything would go back to normal. He then considered the slightest possibility that all of the fantastic events that had transpired could actually be real. If that was the case, Luso reasoned, then he may as well punch Death in the face. It was an opportunity not many people would get.

"Wait!"

"What?"

"You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses would you?" The reaper smirked while slipping on a pair.

Luso's grip on the reaper's collar tightened.

"Oh you would. You dirty, rotten, ungrateful _human_!"

"I am not ungrateful!"

"Then let me go! I'll get you the greatest body under the sun!"

For a few minutes Luso and the reaper struggled. Then the reaper's headset vibrated softly, and the man teleported to the other side of the room.

"Hold up, I got to take this call."

Luso backed away, and waited as the Reaper started to pale, stutter and mumble as he spoke with the person on the phone.

"We have a problem."

"What!?"

"Inspection, my boss declared a random inspection of the workers to make sure we aren't soul smuggling."

"What is the punishment?"

"A thousand years of suffering. And I lose my job. I'm going to get fired."

"They can replace grim reapers that easily?"

"There are more reapers than you can count. We do have to manage every death in the world. I can be replaced as fast as a burger flipper. My job just pays better then what you'd expect and I get dental, don't forget dental."

"When is the inspection?"

"Soon enough. I have three possible candidates for you to chose from before inspection starts. Keep in mind that I have to take them in the manner recorded."

Luso covered his face with his hands.

"Alright tell me"

The reaper searched through his pockets and pulled out a tablet of sorts. He glanced over it, making sure he was reading everything properly. "Your options are a homeless man who gets stabbed in the street, a citizen of the red light district who... Let's skip that option actually. There is a third option but the world that particular death is in is completely different."

"Those aren't really great options. What is the third?" Luso said with a frown.

"You mentioned you can wield a sword right?"

"Yeah, I can. If you call going to a club and jabbing at people wielding a sword."

The angel of death sighed. "Then you have a chance, there is a bandit who died from a fever in the parallel universe of Archanea. It's an medieval world, and on the brink of war. If you want I can give you that body. There will be a huge culture shock. This land has no electricity, primitive technology, so on so forth."

"A different world... this is getting more outlandish by the second." Luso said.

"I am a spirit of the rift. I travel between countless worlds. Have no fear. I will guide you without fail."

Luso nodded, "Will I be able to speak the language?"

"Yes, if the previous person was able to then you will. Anything they knew will transfer into your mind."

"I'll do it."

"I'll get the necessary materials. I'll send you there, check out the body."

Space and time were once again warped, inverted and broken to pieces. The road on which the lost soul was standing on vanished and was replaced by a rudimentary base on the forest, if it could even be called that. The camp was a series of tents were haphazardly placed around a series of trees, Luso drifted into one tent in particular, the healer's tent. A skinny, brown-haired man was gasping in pain, his face completely red from heat. The man groaned slightly and rolled on his side. He looked strong and healthy enough, if one ignored all of his contortions of agony, but all the strength in the world was useless against a disease.

"Is this the one?" Luso pondered to himself as he looked at the bandit's body.

"I hear voices, but I can see no one... could it be... A god? Lord Grima? Accursed Naga? Is it you? Am I going to die? Does it hurt? Please, my god, make it quick! I... I don't want to..."

"Don't worry it isn't so bad." The grim reaper said while materializing into the world.

"Reaper!" Luso said with alarm. The man had come holding a sword as long as he was tall. The jet-black blade shimmered in the dusky light, as the reaper raised it above the bandit's head.

"Rest in peace, Matthew. You have done enough for Plegia. Your friends in a few weeks will make us work overtime on the Ylisseans."

Then he brought the blade down upon the man's body. As the blade passed through the man's body a wispy white light emerged from his chest. For a single brief second he and the dead man's saw each other face to face, before it vanished into the air.

Luso raised his hand and touched the dead man's face his ethereal fingers piercing through the corpse.

"How come he died so peacefully, and I died like that?"

"It was the way he was to die." Death said as he removed a small marble from his front pocket.

"What is that?"

"This is an Aum crystal. It disturbs a body's reaction to a spiritual presence so your soul doesn't get spat out within two seconds. Don't worry, you won't have to live with it. The body will get accustomed to a parasite soul after all. After a while the body will learn to put up with your leaching off it and stealing it's vital-"

"Can you please not speak of me like a flea or something?" Luso said with a grimace.

"You are at best a parasite."

The reaper slipped off the Matthew's shirt and pushed it into the man's chest. A quarter of the dark blue crystal poked out of the man's chest after it was inserted. After it was buried within the man, Luso touched the crystal with his forehead. His ethereal form was sucked into the crystal, and once again, Luso could feel things.

Now the first experience he felt in the body of the bandit was pain. It was a track record Luso had no intention of keeping. Unfortunately for him, it was to be something that would be following him around his entire god damned life. The fever that had killed its host still raged within the body; every muscle in his body screamed and cramped at the same time. Whatever the bandit managed to keep down, Luso coughed back up. Stepping over a pool of vomit, the Reaper touched Luso on his back.

"Killing the pathogens in your body is the last favor I can do for you Luso, but I can still give you advice. Don't focus on things like walking and the like. The previous owner already had it down. The more you concentrate the harder it gets. Beyond that, just trust in his friends. They'll take care of you."

Luso nodded in thanks as he watched the ethereal spirit vanish into thin air. With the sickness gone he was feeling better but waves of nausea were still reverberating in his body. For about two minutes he stared into the tent ceiling wondering what he was going to do now in the strange new world. This wasn't some dream after all; that pain was real!

During the midst of his pondering a boy his age ran quickly into the medical tent. He wore a loose fitting, dusky brown cloak that resembled those worn by great sorcerers or warlocks in books he used to read. Strangely enough though, he somehow seemed oddly familiar.

The magician, for the lack of a better term, smiled cheerfully. "Hey Matt, how are you feeling? I ran back as fast as fast as I found medication for your sickness. "

"I'm feeling better Isaac. I think I am all cured actually." Luso said as nonchalantly as he could manage. "See? No fever!"

Then he processed what he just said. How did he know him?

"Wait one second? Where am I? Who are you?"

"Matt, just calm down and look at my face. Do you remember me?"

"Isaac." Luso said. "You-"

"Good to see that the trauma from a disease didn't make you forget everything." Isaac said. "Now can you remember what we are a part of?"

Luso tried his hardest to access the parts of his memory that was Matthew's. He tried to search into the countless memories the previous owner of his body must have remembered, but it was too difficult. Despite the fact he could speak whatever language this nation used, some parts of his mind were blocked off from him. It was as if "Matthew's soul" itself barred the way.

"We're umm..."

"The Soothsire bandits." Isaac said with a grin. "The ones who bring justice down to the land that wronged us, Ylisse. "

Isaac handed a small brown bottle to Luso. "Anyways Matt, drink this up. Even if you feel recovered, you could have traces of the disease still in you."

Luso took the bottle, and swallowed. It tasted absolutely foul but he appreciated the gesture. At least he knew he would have one person looking out for him in this strange world. The boy fell back asleep fairly easily drifting in and out of the world of dreams. Every morning Isaac would enter the tent and hand Luso a few pieces of bread, and occasionally a bowl of soup or stew. They would talk, and then Isaac would eventually leave to go do whatever he did. During those times, Luso walked around and tried to regain whatever strength he had. The bandit was very physically fit, yet some parts of his body were sore and tense from a combination of the illness and from disuse. But after three days, Luso felt much stronger. He was ready for anything.

On the fifth day, Isaac came into the healer's tent as he usually did, but this time, another man accompanied him.

"So how's he doing?" The other man said.

"He's apparently feeling alright, but give him a few days to recuperate." Isaac said.

"Really now? Haha! That medicine must be mighty fine stuff." The man laughed. "Do you think you're healthy enough to go a few rounds with me?"

"Leader," Isaac said. "Matthew is still fairly sick, it may be better for him to rest a few more days."

"I believe that is up to him." The apparent 'leader' of the bandit group said. "Come on! We'll be sparring soon. Pair up with Garrick this round. If you can last a few minutes against him, you should be able to join us on our next raid. You may say its unfair, or harsh, but if you can't at least put up a good fight here, you'll die the next time you fight. "

"Understood." Luso said, as he dragged himself out of bed.

The walk to the training area from the healer's tent was short for obvious reasons. In fact they only walked around two or three tents to reach the training area if it could even be called that. All it was in essence, was a small clearing, filled with sweaty men.

"Matthew!" One of the bandits shouted. "Good to see you up! Come on, train with me."

The man grabbed Luso by his shoulders and pulled him away to an open area. He picked up a small practice axe and a wooden sword off of the ground and handed the sword to the boy.

As Luso grabbed the weapon and swung it a few times he said, "Ah, leader told me to spar with Garrick. Know where he is?"

The man snickered. "So you're going to fight Number two? Ah good luck, not being sent back to the healer's tent."

"What?" Luso asked.

Then he turned around and saw a giant of a man. The man had small amounts of stubble on his square chin, and dabs or red war paint drawn underneath his eyes.

"So Matt, ready to go a few rounds? Or will you just do one, like you usually do?" Garrick smirked. "You want to use weapons or not?"

"Let's not." Luso handed his wooden sword over to one of the brigands spectating the battle. Garrick's 'training' weapon happened to be covered with a thin sheen of dried blood. For obvious reasons, Luso was wary of being hit by such an object.

"Good." The bandit cracked his knuckles and dropped into a boxer's crouch. "Prepare yourself."

The two stared at each other for a few brief seconds before Garrick lunged forward with a right hook for the first attack. Luso blocked the attack head on with his forearm. Big mistake. The impact of the blow alone made it feel like his bone was bending, though it was in reality just hit, very, very hard.

As Luso cringed in pain, Garrick attempted a sucker punch towards Luso's temple. Learning from his mistakes Luso ducked under this blow, instead of futilely trying to block it. Garrick was a brutal fighter, one who tended to smash his opponents as hard as possible, but that also meant that he swung with more force than he could control. If his wild swings missed, then he would over exert himself and end up throwing himself off balance. When he missed the last swing he ended up tripping slightly, knocking him off guard. Luso exploited this moment by circling around the bandit and going for a straight under the ribs.

Unfortunately, when his attack impacted Garrick didn't even seem to care. The only thing that he hit with the attack was hard muscle, not bone or any particular sensitive joint.

Garrick whirled around and smashed Luso's cheek with the back of his fist. Luso collapsed to his knees from the impact, and felt his head lighten up slightly. For whatever reason it didn't really hurt as much as it made his head ring.

Still light headed, the mercenary swept his foot around in an attempt to trip the bandit. However as kicks involve precise transfers of weight and are far more difficult to execute under pressure all Luso managed to do was slip on his own foot and haphazardly kick Garrick's testicles.

Roaring with anger, Garrick grabbed his practice axe and brandished it at Luso.

"Matthew..." The bandit cringed. "You are going to pay for this."

"It was an accident!" Luso protested.

"I'm going to kill you!"

"Matt, catch!" A green haired archer shouted, while throwing a wooden sword that happened to fall by Luso's feet. "You're going to need this."

"Thanks Tomas!" Luso replied as he grabbed the sword. Again, the name just came to his lips without even thinking. He would have to speak with that bandit later.

With a loud crack, Luso's sword struck against Garrick's axe. Garrick raised his weapon again, infuriated that he had not harmed the swordsman with his last blow.

Luso on the other hand almost buckled from the impact of the mutual clash. The axe man was stronger than he was, and Matthew had been lying in a bed for a week, making his body weaker then it normally would have been. Yet he still did not yield. Enraged, Luso swung his sword wildly, attempting to land any hit he possibly could. Garrick blocked two strikes with the handle of his axe forcing him to refrain from attacking, but winced when he took a glancing blow to the shoulder. Roused up by this apparent success Luso pressed on his attack lashing out at his enemy again and again, until he was interrupted by a massive war cry and an axe swing that nearly missed his face.

As such when Luso attempted to block a second time his sword was knocked out of the way.

As soon as his sword was deflected, Luso leaped back to exit Garrick's attack range. His head was pounding and his heart was beating loudly within his chest. The swordsman stood cautiously, and pointed the tip of his sword towards Garrick's throat. Despite his overwhelming disadvantage when it came to strength, he had a sword while Garrick had an axe, and that theoretically gave him an advantage in reach. Then the axe came hurtling towards him at a speed that Luso never expected. The wooden weapon knocked the breath out of him. Luso collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. The damn axe man had thrown his damn weapon!

Garrick grinned as he picked up his axe and raised it over Luso's head, and was in mid-swing when he heard the sound of applause.

"That was magnificent." The leader of the bandits said as he walked onto the sparring field. "Garrick, this is your victory."

"Yes, leader." Garrick said.

"And Matthew, you handled yourself well. You may have fought dirty, but we're bandits. What do you expect?"

"I lost." Luso gasped.

"Garrick is the strongest one among us." 'Leader' said. "You lasted just as long as you normally did. I think it's safe to say that you're recovered to the point of earning your keep again."

"But sir!" Isaac ran onto the field. "Matthew might still be sick! At least give him two more days to rest, so that we can be sure he's recovered!"

"I see that he's ready, I say he's ready, so he's ready." 'Leader' snorted. "If you want to make sure he's safe, then you can tag along with him like you always do. Can't see why you need to follow him around though. The kid's got a good head on his shoulders. He'll be fine."

"We've always worked well together sir." Isaac said. "I'd rather not have him die due to his own recklessness."

"I understand but its something you'll have to deal with Isaac." Leader said. "Garrick, we're hitting the town Ludia next. The initial strike team this time will be Tomas, Isaac, Matt, you, and me. Get the boys to pack up the camp, and move. The Ylisseans might start sniffing around here, especially after that last raid."

"Sir." Garrick saluted. "What time is the raid?"

"In two days, one day to set up camp, and the other for the men to rest." Leader said. "Now move! I expect the tents packed up in one hour and us moving in two."

"But Captain! We're tired." One of the bandits complained.

"Fine," leader replied. "One hour to rest, and we'll move in two."

Much to Luso's confusion the other bandits started cheering. Was this what the rest of his days were going to be like?


	2. A Hero's Destiny

**No cause justifies the deaths of innocent people. **

**Albert Camus.**

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The march had been more than Luso had expected. He guessed that the pack on his shoulders weighed fifty maybe sixty pounds, but Matthew could have been more accustomed to heavy weights. Either way, it involved him marching across narrow paths in the forest and getting tangled up by vines and the like. He didn't enjoy it one bit. The next day was even worse, as Luso jogged alongside Tomas, Isaac, Garrick, and Leader in their approach to a simple village just before dawn. It was not bothersome due to encumbering weight from his pack, god he had thrown that away when they had made camp, but because of the uneasiness that Luso felt coiling in his stomach. It didn't help that the almost full moon was hidden partially behind the clouds, making the vines and rocks along the trail all but invisible.

The uneasy thoughts were banished however when Leader motioned for Luso to slide up directly next to the village's stone walls.

Leader unstrapped a steel lance from his back and motioned for the rest of the small group to stay next to the village gates and prepare for combat. Luso strapped on a worn, dented, triangular shield on his left shoulder. Excluding his frightfully thin leather jerkin, it would be what would protect him through the battle. Luso would have complained about how the shield was only slightly larger than his head but after seeing Garrick and a few of the others go into combat wearing nothing but animal skins, the mercenary realized that he was in no position to protest. His fingers drifted over his iron sword, lingering over the leather grip. Hopefully he wouldn't need it today.

"Remember, while they are Ylisseans, we have our dignity as Plegian soldiers to maintain, no matter our guise as bandits." Leader said. "No torture, no extra suffering, and no slaving. If you see children or women- anyone unarmed actually, attempting to flee, let them escape. Feel free to take anything they have first though. If they attack you first, kill them. Do you understand?"

"Yes Leader." The group echoed.

"Tomas, Matthew." Leader said handing him a barbed hook. "Use this grappling hook. Open the gates when you get in. Make sure not to get seen."

Luso sighed and looked up at the walls. They were slippery, wet from rain that must have come a day or maybe two days ago. With a grunt from effort he hurled the hook towards the edge of the wall. With a small clatter it fell off the side of the wall and nearly sliced Luso's arm on its way back to the earth. Luso sighed and breathed deeply before hurling the grapple hook. It fell a third time. Then a fourth.

Tomas glanced up and motioned for Luso to pass him the hook. The boy shrugged and handed it over.

"Watch." Tomas said, twirling the line faster and faster. "One clean and gentle motion."

With a single throw, the archer managed to snag the side of the wall with one of the flukes of the hook before handing the rope to Luso. After tugging the rope to make sure it was secure, Luso started the short climb up the village wall and crawled onto the narrow walkway that lined the side. Then he stared down the path. A single prone man lay on the ground with a large bruise on the side of his head. After he checked both the man's pulse and his head wound, the boy realized that he had been hit with the grappling hook during one of his failed attempts.

A chill ran down Luso's spine as he realized how close he had been to being spotted. With an unnervingly familiar feeling to his actions, Luso dug through the guard's pockets, his fingers eventually coming across a ring of keys just as Tomas finished struggling up the rope.

"Can you guess where these could fit?" Luso asked.

"The key to the gates." Tomas said, clutching his bow tightly. "Or perhaps something similar. We were lucky. If you missed him, we may have had the watch breathing down our necks."

Creeping alongside the narrow path, Luso slowly walked alongside the path until he reached the gate house, unlocking it with one of the keys. Within the gatehouse was a large crank of sorts, well oiled from consistent use, and completely exposed.

Slowly but surely, Luso and Tomas started to turn the crank together, resulting in the doors to the village opening inch by inch. After ten or twenty minutes of turning a crank meant for four people, Luso and Tomas panted for breath, muscles stringy and taut.

"Just a little bit further-" Tomas said.

"Eh? What- what happened!" A voice called out from outside the door. "Guards! Everyone, rally! It's the bandits! To arms! To arms!"

"They must have found the body. Matthew, the gate, quickly!" Tomas muttered. "Go!"

Luso ran to the crank and tugged down on it as hard as he could. The door creaked one last time and opened just wide enough for a man to slip through.

"Are we escaping?" Luso said as he eyed the gate. "It 's awfully hard to steal from the rich if they know we're here."

"No, we have to fight." Tomas said as he nervously ran his fingers over his bow. "We can't let them take the walls and get the high ground. We'll eliminate any guards up here, and defend and if possible, destroy the staircase to prevent them from closing the doors on us. If we manage that, we'll join up with Leader afterwards."

"Wait we've been discovered! Should we really start killing them when they already know we're here? They outnumber us... Aren't we here to rob them mostly?"

"We've done this so many times Matt. This isn't the time to hesitate." Tomas said as he quickly looked out the door to the rest of the walls. As soon as he did so a pair of arrows slammed into the door of the gate room.

"Humph, at least they aren't any good at this." Tomas muttered. He drew his bow, looked out the door, and shot an arrow directly into one of the Militia-men's chest. Just two seconds later, Tomas peered out the door again, and removed another arrow from his quiver.

"Stay down!" The archer shouted.

Two seconds later the second archer dropped, an arrow embedded in the man's throat.

"Go!" Tomas motioned. "I've got you covered."

Luso nodded and rushed out the gatehouse as fast as his legs could carry him. The first few rays of sunlight started to shine over the horizon as he approached the corpses of the fallen. A few moments later he ran all the way along the wall to a wooden scaffold that the guards most likely used to access the wall. For some strange reason not too many of them were ascending to the walls. One or two archers were climbing up but otherwise there were no one else. The villagers most likely hadn't expected the walls to be taken without notice. They had secured the main supports for the scaffolds with rope, expecting that no one would be able to reach the structure without an overwhelming force, and as a result, they left primary method for claiming the high ground to be easily destroyed.

"Don't hate me for this." Luso drew his iron sword and sliced the ropes in two. As the archers tumbled down four feet to the ground, Luso rationalized that at most they would get broken bones. Despite that his gut wrenched when he heard the screams.

In the new light from the sunrise, Luso looked about from the walls to see if there were any other scaffolds to climb up to the walls. There were none.

Luso ran across the top of the walls and grabbed the grappling hook that was still dug into the support.

Tomas gave Luso a nod as he ran closer and closer to the gates itself. The archer had been standing by and firing arrows into the crowd beneath the walls.

"I can handle it up here if no other reinforcements are climbing up." Tomas said as he drew another arrow. The second Luso heard a light twang, another Ylissean beneath the walls dropped. The archer leaned forward and picked up a quiver from one of the fallen Ylissean Militiamen. "Go and help leader, as soon as possible."

Luso nodded and hurried along the top of the wall until he was directly over the gate. Then he saw why there were so few fighters that were rushing to the defense of the wall. Most if not all of the local militia were at the gate itself, holding off Leader, Garrick and Isaac, while the civilians ran off to the other side.

Leader and Garrick must have been fighting three men at a time with the pile of corpses by their feet. With a gentle touch of his lance, Leader tripped two militia men and tore open their throats with two light taps. While Leader was dancing about with one of the soldiers that replaced the defeated, Garrick ferociously smashed one of them he was fighting with an axe. With unrivaled brutality, he cleaved the fallen man twice, tearing the guard's already broken body into pieces.

"How much longer?" Isaac murmured. A pair of fireballs circled around the magician as he flipped through the pages of his spell tome. "Till the reinforcements arrive?"

"Soon enough."Garrick laughed. "Come on, Matt, join the party down here!"

Luso grimaced at what he was about to do. What should he do? Could he have refuse Garrick? Although the thought of killing simple militia men sickened him, he had already wounded two archers and watched as many others were slain. Could he turn coat and join the other side? Even if he did, the guards wouldn't believe him and doing so would only make enemies with the bandits. And Luso already knew that he was outmatched. He would be surrounded by foes and inevitably die.

Although it bothered him, the only thing he could do was fight.

Luso forced himself to breath slowly. He couldn't let himself panic. He anchored the grappling hook to the side of the gate, threw the rope over and waited for the incoming wave of militia men to be repulsed by lance, axe and magic. When the guards left to regroup, Luso leaped onto the rope and slid all the way down.

"Good to see you Matt." Isaac said with the smallest hint of a smile.

"The walls are clear?" Leader asked.

"I cut down the scaffold the Ylisseans used to access the wall." Luso said. "if they have ladders, they may be able to retake them. But Tomas is up there, and ensuring that doesn't happen."

"Good." Leader replied. He placed two fingers into his mouth and blew hard, producing a loud shrill whistle that could be heard from at least two hundred paces. The remainder of the bandit horde closed in from the forest, entering all at once through the front gate.

When the guards returned, this time with greater numbers, it became quite apparent that the odds had become far more even. The bandits standing by Luso's side drew their axes and their swords and grinned ferociously.

"Alright boys! Looks like we've got quite a few of them today, we can't surround and fight these guys en-mass like usual. Attack these Ylissean dogs! This time, it's one on one! Don't you dare pillage yet, save it for later!"

The bandit's moved together to face the militia. And when they moved, they moved at once. Luso felt himself be thrust forward into the front lines, not because he was actively charging towards it, but from the force of them men behind him and their desire for blood.

The first person Luso personally faced was a plain faced boy, wielding a thin bronze sword. With a shout the boy charged forward, thrusting the tip of his sword towards Luso's neck. The mercenary sidestepped the blow, knocking the weapon away with his shield, before moving in for the counterattack.

Luso should have felt something then, some hesitations at least when killing someone. He didn't. It felt normal, primal, instinctual as if he had done the action a hundred, no a thousand times. His mind reeled, but his body was apathetic.

Without even thinking, Luso cut cleanly across the man's waist slicing open the stomach causing his guts to spill out of his chest. After the cut, Luso took three quick steps to circle around his opponent and brought his sword down across the guard's shoulders.

With a groan, the man fell onto the ground.

Luso stared at the corpse for a few brief seconds, at the pool of blood that was spilling out onto the cobblestones.

That was it? It was that easy?

The glint of a spear caught Luso's attention, flying towards his face. With reflexes that were not his own Luso raised his shield, and deflected the weapon away from his face. That's when he realized how skilled Matthew must have been. That bandit must have learned all the motions of combat, not from a formal institution, but from constant life and death experience. The combat techniques he was using were not buried deep within in the previous owner's mind, nor were they the result of his own practice, but embedded in his muscle memory. Screaming a war cry, Luso charged forward and swiped across the spear thrower's neck, cleanly decapitating the man. Once again, he had killed someone and not cared. The boy shivered as he nudged the fallen head with his foot. The dead man's eyes seemed to stare straight towards him, and on the head's face was a mouth distorted with a silent scream.

"Don't look at me." Luso stared at the decapitated head of the militiaman. "Don't you dare blame me. I didn't want to do this."

"Matthew, watch out!" Isaac screamed. Luso looked up. An axe smashed into the shield Luso wore on his left arm, knocking the boy backwards. Once again his arm felt almost numb and the portions of his arm that were strapped onto the curved hunk of metal were most definitely bruised.

"Ugh." Luso said as he shook off the blow.

"Don't you dare!" Isaac said as the militia man raised his axe to strike again. "In Grima's name! Elthunder!"

Two bolts of lightning flew from the magician's palm and arced into Luso's attacker, leaving the man convulsing on the ground.

"Matt, are you okay?" Isaac said.

"I'll be just fine." Luso said, while shivering. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

The militiamen by this point were overwhelmed by the bandits. Sure, a few of the bandits had fallen from the scuffle, but two thirds of the guards had been slain. When the survivors faced the sheer ferocity by Leader and his men with even lesser numbers then before, the guards lost hope and started to run.

"Forward!" Garrick ordered. "Leader, I'll take a few, and block the church's entrance, we won't let them steal the riches they keep in the cathedral! Isaac I'll need your help to break the gates. Loosen up the walls some, and I'll smash them clean open with a hammer."

"Matthew, keep watch by the other gate." Leader said. "Let them escape, but if you see anyone carrying something that seems of value, then... persuade them to hand it over."

At this point the mercenary was numb to it all. Where Garrick or Leader ordered, he went. There was no time to think, and there was no purpose to think. All he would do was follow.

Yes. That was the best thing he could do.

The next thing he knew, Luso was hiding in the bushes, watching as any stragglers, any wounded dragged themselves out of the town. Most of them were carrying simple things like food, water, or clothing; they had nothing of value. Then Luso heard someone behind him shout. This time, Luso had no reservations. He would not be distracted by any of his actions, nor would he show any mercy to those trying to kill him. The boy spun around and stabbed his aggressor. For a second, he breathed a sigh of relief. His attacker had been holding a knife. Most likely she had been trying to stab him. Then he saw who struck at him. A mother holding a child. When realization struck him, Luso's hands started to tremble. The mercenary leaned forward and touched the child. During his strike, he had chopped off its arm. Within moments it had died of blood loss.

"No..." Luso breathed. "I..."

He hadn't made the second mistake twice, but he felt horrible for not doing so.

The people of the village ran away from the now exposed mercenary as quickly as possible with eyes filled with fear and distrust, all while screaming in terror.

* * *

_Man this story got dark. Well, I have to make a reasonable entrance. Luso defecting twenty seconds after being inserted is sort of unrealistic. _

_Anyways, I'm considering renaming this. Anyone have any suggestions? _

_Please Review down below. It takes twelve seconds of your time, and helps me so much._


	3. Friends

A party was the only way Luso could describe it. The bandits had stormed the cathedral of Naga in the small village and broke out the casks of wine they had taken from the inn. There was much drunken singing and slurred conversation as they dug through the loot. Luso stared at it with dull eyes. How could he celebrate now of all times? Out of a sense of communal obligation, Luso stayed in the cathedral after he was handed his 'share'-a pouch of gold and a bronze sword, until Garrick and another bandit started a 'who can destroy the most effigies of Naga' contest.

Once a statue head flew across the room and almost hit him across the face, the boy decided to leave.

Luso saw the blood splash on his shoes as he walked through the streets. Every tenth step or so, he would pass the corpse of one of the guards or bandits. He looked to his left and right, seeking out where he had fought, struck and killed. He found the severed head of the guard first, and the headless body directly next to it. In actuality, there were multiple headless corpses nearby, as many of the bandits decapitated the fallen guards as a manner of ensuring that they wouldn't stand back up and return to the fight. Luso dug through the corpses and found the body that seemed to match the head the best, but still, he couldn't be certain.

Then he found the corpse of the spear thrower he cut down, who on closer inspection looked like he was in his upper teens. Due to some rubble that had collapsed onto the body, it took some effort to dig the body out of the rock and drag the corpse to the edge of town. Luso at the end of his ordeal was panting and coughing from exhaustion.

But he couldn't rest yet, there was still the woman with the child he has stabbed. Her corpse was still intact, so Luso could simply throw the body over his shoulders. All four corpses, all four people he had killed were lying together in a pile.

He had found a shovel in a shed. Now it was time to get to work. With grunts of exhaustion, Luso started to dig, and dig and dig. After ten minutes Luso stared at the hole he made. It was hardly enough for the child to fit in, much less the entire group. It would be the next day by the time he dug a hole large enough for all three of the people he killed.

Luso lowered the dead child into the grave he had already dug, and threw some dirt over it. Donning an stoic face, the boy picked up one of the larger cobble stones and dragged it over the shallow grave.

Luso looked beyond, and saw the fields that the village people had been farming. Oxen would drag huge plows creating narrow furrows in the dirt for sowers to throw seeds into. It may have not been the original purpose for them, but it could be used as an impromptu grave. Luso lowered the mother first, then the guards, ensuring that the mother had the grave closest to the child. The boy had just finished throwing dirt over the last body when he collapsed onto his knees.

What was he doing here?

How could he not care about what he had done?

Why did he feel no remorse, no crushing sense of guilt that any murderer should?

As Luso pondered these questions, another boy sat down next to him.

Tomas had unstrung his bow, and slid it into a leather pouch over his shoulder. When Tomas put away his quiver, he almost looked like a normal boy, one unaccustomed to killing, in stark contrast to Luso who was still had plenty of blood on his arms and chest plate.

"I've never seen someone in the group dig a grave before." Tomas said. "Are you alright Matt?"

"I'm a little tired." Luso admitted. "It feels really weird you know. I killed three people, I killed a child of all things, and I don't feel like their deaths were really important. I did what I was taught, I dug a grave, I buried them the best I could manage but I feel no different from what I did in the morning. Is there something wrong with me? God, I don't understand, what I should do. Why am I here? What am I doing here? Why is killing something I feel like I'm used to? It's so... Wrong..."

"You never really got used to it, did you? Otherwise you wouldn't have bothered." Tomas smiled. "The fact that you took the time to dig a grave shows that it meant something to you, no matter how it seems to the yourself or the others on the outside."

"Why are we killing these people?"

"We volunteered." Tomas shrugged. "Some for vengeance, others for gold and food. For whatever reason, we're here now, and we do it, as we have nothing else to do. You're not evil, just following orders."

"Why did you come?" Luso asked.

"Well, when I first started, I thought it would be fun and all." Tomas shrugged.

"Do you still feel that way?"

"If I did, would we still be having this conversation? I hate it all but if I quit, I would be hung for deserting. For the better or worse, I'm with this little squad till we return to Plegia. I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one that has misgivings."

"No one else does?"

"Well, I never seen anyone else have any regrets for what we are doing here. I actually started to think that I was the only one. You were actually the last person I expected to hesitate, so who knows?"

"Is that so..." Luso hesitated. What had Matthew done before he had entered his body? It almost pained him to listen to what Tomas had to say next.

"Yeah, I watched you butcher Ylisseans all in the same manner, by hacking them into pieces with that sword. Women, children, and men, Matt all became unrecognizable after you were through with them. There was a reason Leader lectured you not to hunt down people without weapons." Tomas said. "When I saw you fight, it almost was like you saw them as if they weren't human. But it's good to see even the great champion of the Soothsires thinks about these kinds of things."

"Really?"

"No matter our actions, we must be ready to look back and think upon them. Words may be forgotten, but deeds will never change." Tomas said. "Come on Matt, the night's still young. Let's get something to eat, and rest before tomorrow, we have a long day ahead of us."

"Wait." Luso said. He walked over to the house of the magistrate of the town, and opened the latch leading to the gardens. He returned holding flowers, and laid them over the grave.

Then he turned about and followed Tomas back into the madness that was going on in the cathedral.

"Let's go." Luso said.

* * *

The bandits decided not to face the hassle of returning back to camp and instead spent the night in the old churches and the homes of the wealthier members of the village. Luso, Tomas, and Isaac had chosen to spend the night in a merchant's house. The home was much richer than any place Luso had personally seen before in this world, with furnishings such as feather beds, elegant paintings, golden chalices, and a fully stocked wine cellar. Naturally the first thing Isaac and Tomas did was drag up a barrel, and ask Luso to break open the top. Perhaps a bit still upset from the conversation he had with Luso, Tomas silently drunk at least seven glasses of wine before stumbling upstairs, to collapse into bed.

Isaac on the other hand drank slowly. As the magician sipped his alcohol he looked towards Luso and waved him over. "Hey, Matt? Why aren't you drinking? It's strange to say this, but you seem depressed. Usually you're the most cheerful out of all of us after wiping out a couple of Ylissean Scum,"

"Should I be happy? Are you happy about killing those people?" Luso asked.

"Yeah, so?"

"What kind of person can kill so easily, so mercilessly? A good one or a bad one?" Luso said.

"Matt, you've killed dozens of Ylisseans. I lost count actually. Why is it bothering you now? Was your life and death experience with that disease so traumatic that it made you... Afraid to kill? "

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Of course. Every time I kill, it's to protect Plegia. Peace is wonderful but it is a fleeting dream. Not a soul in Ylisse desires it, so we must be prepared for it as well. Ylisse only backed off in the previous war because they bled dry, every day they had sent more and more soldiers to the front line and slaughtered our people till they had no more men to throw at us. Cornelius, the wretched king of Ylisse, personally struck at our people in refugee camps, to ruin us. They drove men to slavery to get enough money for food! The quarrel between our nations will end only when one of them are destroyed. I would rather it be Ylisse then Plegia."

Isaac stared at his goblet then drank deeply. "Of course, killing villagers is distasteful, but I suppose every little bit helps. In my opinion we should head straight to the capital and wreak havoc there. Border towns like this mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. But if we could ruin the Shepherd's barracks and possibly assassinate the exalted lineage, we could make them helpless before us... And I would have my revenge..." Isaac trailed off. "What am I saying, I'm drunk and out of my mind. Help me upstairs Matt, I may have trouble walking at this point."

Luso nodded and wrapped the magician's arm around his shoulders. "I'll protect you Matt, no matter what happens. We'll cut down the children of Cornelius together. They can't hold a candle to us!"

"Go to sleep Isaac." Luso shook his head, as he lowered the delirious magician into a feather bed.

Then he looked about the room. There were only two beds. Tomas had sprawled over one, and he had already lowered Isaac in the other. Luso shrugged, and found a particularly plush arm chair. He had thrown off his armor and shield, but kept his shirt on, resulting in whatever flecks of dried blood that remained on his shirt to be wiped onto the chair. At this point Luso didn't care and soon fell asleep.

The next morning came quickly for the mercenary. He woke up feeling refreshed and cheerful. The sun was shining through the window, the crows were cawing and fighting over the corpses in the streets, and Isaac and Tomas were cursing at him to shut the curtains.

"Good to see you up." Luso said to Tomas and Isaac. "How are you feeling?"

"Shut up." The archer mumbled and slammed his head onto the kitchen table. "Can't talk."

"How about you Isaac?"

"Ugh, how much did I drink last night?"

"If you have to ask that question you drank too much." Tomas groaned.

"They have some tea in this cabinet maybe that would help some." Luso shrugged. "I could also cook some breakfast."

"Who are you and what did you do to the real Matt?" Isaac asked. "This isn't like you at all. First you balk at killing the Ylisseans, and now you don't run away from the kitchen. "

"Who knows?" Luso turned away.

"Cook breakfast quickly." Tomas groaned. "We'll eat on the way. Leader's going to bust in here and order us to return to camp any time."

"As usual." Isaac decided to mimic Tomas and slam his head on the table as well. "Drink as much as you want! Want to sleep off the hangover? No, we have to return to the camp!"

"It's to avoid the Shepherds, you know that..." Tomas said.

"Yeah, I get it." Isaac said.

"Smells good." Tomas murmured. "What are you making Matt?"

"I'm trying to bake something." Luso scowled at the stove. "But I can't really tell how to keep this at the right temperature."

"It's fine." Isaac groaned. "You'll get it someday."

Tomas sniffed the air. "Something's burning."

"It's on fire! It's on fire!" Luso cursed. "Damn these medieval era cooking implements!"

And so those days seem to repeat over and over again. On days where Leader assigned a raid, Luso, Isaac, and Tomas would fight, pillage, and in the aftermath the archer and magician would drink till they passed out. When they weren't sacking a town, Tomas, Isaac, or Leader would train with Luso, for the purpose of "restoring him to his original dexterity and strength." Within only three months he had gained total mastery of his body, and he no longer felt like a stranger trapped in another's body. He also learned how to manage a stove, sharpen his sword, polish his gear, as well as how to properly treat wounds with vulneraries. It was so mundane yet still so ridiculous, it seemed almost like a dream.

Then, on a day like any other day, all of that changed.

It had been like the first raid he had partaken in. Climb the walls, open the gates, and make sure one can maintain the high ground. In terms of tactics they had performed spectacularly. Unfortunately, there was one fatal mistake. Leader had ordered that no one that was not armed should be attacked, a decision that Luso and Tomas both quietly agreed with. However, it was difficult sometimes to determine who was armed and who wasn't. Leader had spared a husband and wife fleeing the burning town, however, the man who was escaping was not aware of his mercy. Suddenly drawing a hidden knife the husband stabbed Leader from behind. The blade pierced clean through the lanceman's chest plate, and sliced into the bandit's heart. It was beyond any treatment.

In Plegian culture the former commander was considered to be still leading whatever unit they were in until proper funeral rites were completed. As a result the group fell into disarray after Leader's death with almost half of the bandits missing at any given time to go about pillaging and terrorizing the countryside and the other half was drunk. In the end, it was Luso, Garrick and Tomas who ended up actually hurling Leader's corpse onto a stack of wood and setting it aflame.

As Garrick was Leader's right hand man for as long as anyone could remember, he was a shoo-in the new commander of the Soothsires. The rest of the bandits decided to have a little tournament of sorts to determine who was the strongest midst them, to figure out who was most likely to be promoted to the new second in command. Surprisingly Luso did fairly well, ending at about the third or fourth strongest fighters in the bandit horde. Who won? Isaac was able to easily defeat everyone else with but a few murmured words and a wave of his hand.

But in the end, it didn't really matter. Garrick was the new Leader of the Soothsires, and quite a few things changed when he took power.

On his initial address Garrick had said. "I am the leader now. We're here to terrorize Ylisseans, so we'll become demons to them. We're not soldiers anymore, so why should we act like them? Attack indiscriminately; we don't need to follow any restraint. Your new leader also has some good news for you! I formed a contract with slavers, on the far side of Plegia. If you all are willing to spend the effort we'll make a good deal more coin then we did before. Open season, Hah!"

Tomas paled at the announcement. Luso looked away in disappointment. Isaac simply tilted his head.

Things really were to drift away from what they were before.

* * *

_Do I really have to put another disclaimer, that I don't own anything? Yes? Ok. I don't own anything. Intelligent Systems owns everything. _

_Well, please Review. Reviews are one of the main motivators to get someone to write. _


	4. Assault

**_I'm Alive! ALIVE I TELL YOU!_**

_School work, and Vacation just ate a lot out of me, you know. _

* * *

Nobody really enjoyed marching in the bandit troop. It had always been an exhausting chore, one that involved packing up a small village of tents, strapping on comically oversized packs, and walking several miles for three days. It was a task Luso was all too familiar with as Leader would order the group to relocate every other raid. Garrick, after he took over Leader's position, refused to march, claiming it was a waste of time that could otherwise be spent pillaging other villages.

It was not until now that the foolishness of not relocating came into effect. A few days after the bandit raids, news of the attacks spread to the capital of Ylisse. The Shepherds were among those informed.

In the aftermath of the conflict with Plegia, Ylisse did not need a standing army. The Pegasus knights remained at full strength to swiftly patrol the borders as well as to relay information throughout the realm, but the former legions of knights and cavaliers were dissolved. To replace them, every village had a militia, which served to protect the inhabitants of each village from harm. However, it soon became apparent that the village militias were not effective in hunting down bandits. Often times when a group of bandits was chased out of a village by the militia, the militia would not pursue. Most militias chose to defend the village instead of stirring up more trouble by leaving it undefended to chase after an unknown enemy. Defeated bandits would slink away, lick their wounds and strike again at a different village. This problem became more and more worrying as the more strategic bandit leaders would observe the village militias for a day or so then pick and choose which villages to assault. Eventually, certain bandit tacticians, such as Leader, became so adept at selecting their fights that every village they chose as their target was successfully pillaged. It became apparent that there needed to be some method of eliminating bandit troops which did not bank on a bandit's mistake, simply because veteran bandits rarely failed.

When Prince Chrom came of age, he created the Shepherds. The Shepherds were by no definition an army, it lacked the numbers, the discipline (though Frederick scared nearly everyone into line), and the structure that characterized an army. What they were was an elite, handpicked, rambunctious crew of warriors to hunt down and eliminate notable bandit groups. When a bandit troop was confirmed to work in a certain place, a team of three or four Shepherds assisted by nearby militiamen would be dispatched to kill every single bandit in said area.

As Leader constantly moved his troop about in unusual patterns he had cleverly avoided the Shepherd kill teams sent to investigate the villages he pillaged. However, Garrick remained in one location and pillaged six villages within four miles of each other. Chrom found the issue serious enough to warrant sending two teams of Shepherds to Southtown and the neighboring regions, as well as to lead one squad personally. It was the red cavalier's, Sully's, team that found Garrick's camp.

The bandits never stood a chance. Sully, Virion, Miriel, Stahl, and sixteen militiamen launched a surprise night time attack, catching them off guard. A third of the bandits had passed out due to alcohol poisoning and was easily cut down in the first charge. It was a lucky break that enough bandits were sober enough to prevent the inner circle of tents from being penetrated; as it allowed twenty or so still sleeping bandits to wake up, arm themselves and prepare a counterattack. As one of the few members of the Soothsires that wasn't drunk off his ass, Luso was at the moment the most important defenders of the camp.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Luso flicked his iron sword to his right to parry the lunging assault of a lance wielder. Had he been even the slightest bit intoxicated, there was no doubt he would have been impaled multiple times, instead of the moderate slice he had taken to the stomach. He glanced to his left and right and quickly realized many of his compatriots had not been so lucky. Luso had seen four drunken bandits clumsily swinging axes towards a pair of militiamen; one of them accidently killed himself with his own rusty axe and the other three were so slow with their attacks that the militiamen easily dodged their swipes and lunges and counterattacked. Two of the bandits fell to a few swift sword-strokes; the last was killed by a lance head to the neck. With no other targets remaining, they both turned on the mercenary.

Luso roared an inhuman war cry in an attempt to intimidate his foes. When the soldiers shuddered in anticipation, waiting for a suicidal charge, it gave him just a few seconds to analyze the situation. Even with Matthew's quick reflexes, fighting two people at once would be a total disaster. Sure, it may be simple during sparring and or during the chaos of a battle, but in a small skirmish, numbers meant a huge deal. Block one person's attack the other's gets through; if you stab one person through the chest, while your back is turned the other will get you. No, fighting recklessly would be the worst possible idea.

There were three basic tactics for fighting more than one opponent and none of them were stupid like using two swords or some fancy weapon that defied all laws of common sense. He could run away, force his enemies to come at him one at a time or attempt to strike down one as quickly as possible to even the odds.

None of those options but the last one was available to him. The tents were behind him and blocked any speedy exit from the brawl and the area he was confined to lacked any sort of natural barriers. Hell he couldn't even hide, his chest wound was bleeding pretty badly, the blood trail would lead them to him even if he managed to get away. It was vexing that the suicidal charge was his only real option; even more so because he had already made them prepared for a rush instead of just striking first and getting it over with.

He could win this fight; he had to win this fight. Luso breathed in, steeling himself for his attack. Don't be afraid. Don't be scared. Go.

"Here he comes!"

"I've got him... Wait, is he actually going to charge this time? Oh crap, he's doing it!"

Two slashes, two screams of pain, and all were silent.

Luso opened his eyes, praying that it went well, and was mildly pleased by the results. One militiaman had a sword through his shoulder, that was his own handiwork. The second? He had already fallen, an arrow through his helmet's eye slit.

"Matthew," Tomas leaped out of a tree, longbow in hand. "Looked like you needed some help,"

"Thanks." Luso sighed in relief. "I thought I was a goner there."

Tomas handed Luso a piece of cloth. "Press this against your wounds, I don't have any concoctions. Got new orders from the top."

"What are they?" Luso winced as he placed the towel over his stomach. "This situation is pretty bad. How'd Garrick come up with a plan, what the hell is the plan?"

"Well..."

"Is there a plan?" Luso exclaimed.

"There is one but you aren't going to like it."

* * *

Garrick had looked absolutely terrified when he heard about the attack. The bandit chief had been shaken awake just as the shepherd's first charged. Pockets of fighting had continued about the camp, but otherwise there was no organized resistance. Ten out of his thirty five men had been killed in the past fifteen minutes. It wasn't surprising that he was scared. However, it was also a sight neither Tomas nor Isaac wanted to see. They needed a unified front, and Garrick had to be the one to give the order for anything remotely resembling that to happen.

"Leader, they've retreated for now." Tomas noted. "But this lull probably won't last long. We need a strategy in this battle."

"Isaac, can you tell me our status?" Garrick said, breathing heavily to compose himself.

"We're already tired from the last few days, not to mention the hits we've taken already. I don't think we'll be able to fight off the next strike without heavy casualties. We need to retreat." Isaac shook his head, sweat running down his brow. "No matter how distasteful it may be."

"We cannot just outrun cavaliers; we'd be tracked and hunted down like dogs." Garrick shook his head as he snatched up his short axe. "How do you propose we'd escape?"

"I can think only one way, we throw some bait and the rest of us run." Isaac said.

"You're suggesting that we sacrifice someone?" Garrick muttered.

"One person stays behind and distracts the Shepherds as long as possible. While he does so, the rest of us scatter into the woods to prevent leaving a trail. We'll regroup at another place and time."

"I see, leave one to die to save the rest. It makes sense, but who would be willing to throw away their life?" Garrick sighed. "Do we have anyone crazy enough to volunteer?"

"It isn't like we have some master tactician Leader, it's that or praying for a miracle." Isaac said.

"Commander, Let me." Tomas stepped forward, his face steadfast and full of an eerie determination. "With my arrows I could inflict the most damage without getting counterattacked, and there are plenty of places where an archer could hide. If you give me the longbow, I may be able to wound their magician without being injured."

"We'll meet in the old camp in the forest next to Southtown," Garrick whispered. "Send the word to gather half of our forces to the camp center. We'll bust through then. The stragglers will just have to retreat later."

* * *

"Tomas, are you insane?" Luso grabbed the archer's shoulder and shook him. "I don't understand, you hated doing this! Why would you sacrifice yourself for a bunch of scumbags?"

"It's because we're people like us." Tomas smiled sadly. "We're horrible. We kill, steal, we slave. If I'm going to die, I want to die for something I believe in. Something just. I'll be happy dying for my friends instead of for some damn piece of gold or petty revenge."

"Tomas..." Luso replied.

"Get ready to run." Tomas said. "And keep your sword in your hand. Knowing Garrick, he's not going to be discreet like Leader."

A voice echoed throughout the entire forest. "Alright maggots draw your weapons and look sharp. We're busting through in one clean strike, after we break free, split up and scatter." Garrick had bellowed loud enough for every last bandit in the camp to hear, and most of the Ylisseans too. "We'll meet again at the full moon, at the old camp where Rodriguez set Lyon's pants on fire? If you don't recall, then find someone who does, damn it. Let's go! Charge!"

The archer shoved Luso forward. "That's your cue!"

"Tomas!"

"I mean it, go!" Tomas hissed.

Luso turned about and started running towards Garrick's voice.

"Are you an idiot?" Tomas said. "Garrick just telegraphed where he was to the Ylissean commander. If you go towards him now, you'll die when their forces circles around to prevent our stragglers from regrouping. Escape in the opposite direction Matt, You won't find as many of them if you go that way!"

Luso nodded quickly before dashing into the thickets of the forest before Southtown, vanishing into the black deciduous woods.

Tomas climbed up to a vantage point and drew the longbow dug out of the camp storage and positioned himself in the former sparring ground.

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, in and out. He could hear screams as the bandits plowed through a small section of the Ylissean force in their escape attempt. If the Ylisseans tried to chase after them they would undoubtedly go the most efficient and cleared route; the camp center.

Tomas shifted back and forth and pulled off his pack and water skin. Everything but his armor and his bow and arrows had to go.

The rhythmic crunch of fallen branches was enough for Tomas to know the Ylisseans were approaching. In just a few moments they would be within sight.

The archer turned around and started to run away, shouting. "Garrick wait, I'm coming!"

It was a lie, and Garrick knew it just by recognizing Tomas's voice. But the Ylisseans didn't. Within minutes the entire group of soldiers began to converge on his position.

Tomas quickly dashed into the underbrush, deliberately kicking up piles of leaves and stepping on branches to provide plenty of noise for the Shepherd to track.

Once the soldiers started to approach closer and closer, Tomas started to cut through especially thick forested areas; as a bandit who regularly navigated such areas, he was barely impeded compared to his pursuers. The thick woodlands also provided ample room for Tomas to double back and start making noise in an entirely different area forcing them to turn around and renew their search.

Yet even with the terrain, Tomas could not elude the militiamen forever. After a few soldiers caught more than a peek of him, doubling back would get him surrounded as they would simply call out his hiding place. Also, densely forested area trampled over by ten men and a horse generally did not slow down anyone much afterwards.

It had to come down to this.

Tomas leaped over a fallen oak, pivoting with his right hand, and turned about to face two of his faster pursuers. Within moments both of them fell to the ground, shafts protruding from their chests. Yet in the time he had taken to kill those two, another two appeared in their place, and a crowd of five including the cavalier Tomas identified as the Shepherd Sully was just behind them. Just out of spite the archer drew the longbow and fired at her, hoping for a lucky hit. The bolt flew just shy of Sully's face, and slammed into the trunk next to her. Although the attack had failed, and most likely reduced the time Tomas had left, it was still oddly satisfying. Then he heard a voice.

"My dear lady, are you harmed? Have no fear; the archest of archers will deal with his ilk."

Tomas recoiled in pain, and instinctively clutched his arm. The bandit looked down, and saw an arrow embedded deep into his shoulder.  
A cursory glance towards the direction he was shot from was enough to tell Tomas that whoever had shot him had done so through a particularly thick grove of bushes. This "Archest or Archers" was skilled indeed, Tomas thought as he stumbled behind a rock formation. Hopefully he could stay out of sight long enough to-

"Virion, you say you can see where the archer is? My capability for observation is unmatched yet I see no trace of him."

"My dear lady if you'd just throw your fireball, towards that particular area, you'd see for yourself where he is hidden."

"Very well."

Tomas screamed as the flames licked around the formation he was hiding behind and wrapped around him. His right arm, already torn apart by an arrow was cooked, and was sizzling from the burns. Now, he had no plan left. All he had to do was to escape, be anywhere but here. When his feverish sense of being faded away, Tomas suddenly realized that he had stumbled into a clearing.

The Ylissean soldiers broke out of the woods and spread out around him. Tomas dropped his bow when he saw that he was surrounded. There wasn't any point left in running. His fate was already decided. Many of the soldiers refused to believe that he was the only one that was there; a few left to search for others. The remaining hefted the lances and dealt with the bandit they knew existed.

"Heh..." Tomas said. "Looks like my time is up... Lord Grima, Lady Naga, did I do what was right?"

It wasn't until the archer's chest was ripped completely to pieces and his organs turned to mush that the soldiers finally stopped their assault.

Sully stood by for a time, and watched them kill the Plegian, finding it hard to find sympathy for him. However she did note something about the boy. He was smiling. And damn him, because nobody smiled when they died unless they had done something that would end up being a pain in the ass for whoever offed them.

* * *

**Author's Notes.**

**One of my main ideas in fanfic is to try to make it as true to the game as possible and make it entirely possible to implement this story in the game. The bandit chapters would be a prologue of sorts, and whoever was sacrificed could be selected by the player.**

**Choose a decoy.**

**If Isaac was chosen.**  
**"Allow me to stay behind, I suggested this plan, so let me be the one who carries it out. Don't mourn for me, I always knew I would die fighting Ylisse."**

**"Matt, Tomas... I hope you escaped..."**

**If Luso was chosen.**  
**"I'll be the decoy. I'm already faced death, and I'm not afraid to face it again."**

**"I suppose dying for my friends isn't the worst fate I could manage..."**

* * *

If Tomas survived.

Roster.

Tomas- The Green Archer.

A former Plegian Bandit who's turned over a new leaf. He's surprisingly pleasant to talk to, despite his former profession, but will often speak sadly about his own past and ideas. The most easily lost in thought.

Confession Quote. Me? Really? Me? I've always thought someone like you would settle for someone better.

Base Classes.

Archer, Thief, Cavalier.

* * *

Non story related stuff!

PMs between Sheshellsally and me.  
[Context. I used the word shuttered instead of shuddered.]  
/When the soldiers shuttered in anticipation,/

I think you mean shuddering or else...

{"Draw the curtains Larry, this one's a screamer." One militiaman said to his friend as he observed the young man shredding his pipes while waving his sword in the air.

"Bloody bandits!" Larry spat as he undid the sash allowing the silk curtains to cover the window. "My ma always said bandits were like tornados, ya gotta batten down the hatches and wait for them to blow over. We ought a nail this down too."

"Might as well." his friend said shrugging "We got time. this one's giving me the ole' Kamehameha."

Ignorant of their barbs Luso screamed on as they gathered wooded planks to nail the window shut unaware his lips were turning a violent shade of oxygen deprived blue.}  
Yeah, she has a quite the sense of humor. Go read her stories, they have a frightfully low number of readers.

Anyways, Do not own jack. Have fun!


	5. Duty

**~o.O.o~**

Luso gripped his shoulder tightly as he stumbled through the old growth. He leaned against a tree, holding onto his sword weakly with his left hand.

Tomas had been right. There was almost no one searching in the direction he had been advised to go. His only encounter was with one particular militiaman who decided to take a moment to go into the bushes to relieve himself and even then it was a simple motion to cut him down and hide the body in the same bush he had been using as a latrine.

He had run until he couldn't run anymore. Wounded and exhausted, Luso felt his injuries which Tomas had bandaged. The piece of cloth had been soaked through with blood and was sticking to his side. He peeled the bandage off, portions of cotton tore, stuck to where his blood had hardened into a leathery scab.

Wrapping his cloak around his wound, Luso collapsed face first into a ditch; his body was too worn out to move anymore. While praying to god, praying to the Reapers- for just a moment's respite, the boy fell asleep.

His break only lasted until midnight, mere hours after he had escaped from the Shepherds. He was still dreaming when the earth itself started to quiver and shake. With an ear-splitting crack the heavens shattered releasing onto the entire forest outside of Southtown a haze of malevolent black magic. The black mist flowed through the corpses of bandits, the twisted bodies of fallen militiamen and soldiers, re-animating them into something less than human. As the earth shattered, ancient graves were brought up once more. Wherever human bones and flesh were once buried, the black mist followed, stitching together what had decayed into a black fluid which bound itself to old remains to recreate what should have been forgotten long ago. Even broken shards of bone were melted down by the mist to form revenants, liquid monsters which would slither about until they found prey to envelop and assume control of.

These monsters were human in-form except for one particular trait; their eyes were a glowing red, a by-product from the cursed method of their creation. Within moments the entire forest was filled with inhuman shrieks and screams. The first corpse soldiers, the first Risen, had appeared in Ylisse. Had this cataclysm happened over Ylisstol or any city with a military presence and large graveyard, perhaps the apocalypse would have happened then and there.

When Luso opened his eyes, the sight of the forest burning; the smell of ashes; and the haze of mist which caused him to sputter and cough made him believe for just a few moments that this was all a dream, some fear induced vision that originated from his exhaustion. It was only further exacerbated when he saw a pair of creatures shambling towards him. The Risen groaned as they approached, the black mist escaping their bodies with every breath, causing plants to wither and die when breathed upon.

"When the Reaper said this world would be a little different, he never mentioned this." Luso hyperventilated, retreating step by step as the ghouls slowly lurched towards him. They gazed at him almost as if they couldn't tell if he was alive or dead, and sniffed curiously as they approached.

"First magic, now zombies."

When they were within ten meters, they lunged forward, rushing towards Luso with their arms reaching out to seize and tear him to pieces. As the first one approached, Luso swung his sword, decapitating the creature in a single blow. It was surprisingly messy, its neck snapped into two pieces leaving the head hanging off by a strip of muscle. The statement if it bleeds, we can kill it did not apply here. The black fluid evaporated as it flowed out of the creature's partially decapitated stump as it continued its charge forward, blindly stumbling back and forth as it waved its arms about searching for its target.

When striking the second enemy, Luso opted to cut alongside the torso; if the slash itself didn't kill the monster then at least it wouldn't be able to fight any more without its legs. After the noisy shluck of a sword cutting through gelatinous flesh, the lower half of the Revenant turned to dust and faded away. The upper half formed a puddle of goo that slithered past his feet, crawling through the grass. Within seconds, the remaining piece of the Revenant quickly worked its way over to the decapitated one. Luso watched in morbid fascination as the lump of slime slithered up the creature's legs and coating the ashen grey skin of the risen with yellow streaks, before worming its way through the breaks in its skin and integrating into its body. The still partially attached head was soon completely enveloped by the Revenant's fluid and with a squelch, squished back into place.

With a wailing screech that could have rivaled a gorgon's, the entombed swung both its arms towards him. At the same moment Luso pulled back his sword arm and lunged forward. Luso's was the faster of the two. His blade had cleanly pierced through the creature's chest. Then the claws came down. A single swipe from the Risen was enough to tear cleanly through his armor and slice into his left arm.

Luso backed away from the creature but not before the second arm had clawed his chest. Had he stepped back a moment later, the creature's fingers would have shattered the Aum crystal, instead of only barely ripping at his skin.

Even though he was still alive, the situation was not the greatest; his left arm was hanging uselessly, ripped apart by talons, and his iron sword was still embedded within the creature's chest. The entombed groaned and twisted its head back and forth as it started to once again lurch towards the mercenary.

"Damn it, damn it, Damn IT!" Luso said as he backed up against a tree. He drew the dagger kept in his boot, and kept the weapon in front of him, steeling himself for another attack. The entombed obliged. With a single mighty attack, it tore through the tree bark that Luso had been bracing himself against just a moment prior. Ducking under the blow and quickly closing in on the creature while it overextended, Luso slammed his knife into one of its crimson eyes, grabbed his sword, and tore it out as violently as he could.

Suddenly the entombed stopped in place, and stared at the mercenary for just a few moments. Then it collapsed onto the ground, and started to dissolve. Within moments, the creature had vanished, now just a black stain on the ground, leaving behind nothing but a simple satchel.

It was a militiaman's satchel, as far as Luso could tell from the mark of the Exalt stitched into the front flap. The creature he had just killed was probably one of the soldiers from the earlier raid. Still shivering at the implications of such a transformation Luso opened the bag and found a half used vulnerary solution. It wasn't much but it was still something.

"Looks like my time isn't up yet," Luso said as he poured the solution onto his side.

After moving what little possessions he had into the satchel and throwing his old pack into the bushes, Luso picked up his sword and wiped the grime off of the blade. There was a rule when dealing with zombies of any shape or form; there never are just one or two. He had to be ready for anything.

The forest seemed to be the only place affected by this strange mist, if he escaped, then most likely he'd be away from ground zero of the apocalypse.

Then he heard a loud scream, probably from a girl just a few years younger than him, coming from the oldest sections of the woods. Luso turned away, moving towards the exit. What was it to him? He'd killed many girls her age with the very sword in his hands under both Leader's, and Garrick's orders. Why should one more matter to him? Why?

Because he'd done so under orders, a voice in the back of his head whispered. If he ran away now he'd be leaving her to die not out any twisted obligation but because he was afraid. He was the sum of his actions and Luso refused to believe that he was a heartless coward.

Damn him and his sense of pity.

The mercenary turned around, and within moments he was leaping over fallen trees and hacking his way through bushes to get to the screams just a moment sooner. Just a little bit further, Luso thought as the shouts became closer and closer.

There!

Luso could make out a two pairs of glowing red eyes, distinctive of the monsters he had fought earlier. They weren't searching for him, but for something, no someone else. Their target was a blonde cleric, barely a head shorter than him, who was backing away from them, trembling with fear. Luso supposed that she was lucky, had the creatures charged her instead of lurching about as they usually did, she would have been killed.

These monsters were armed with iron axes, and so would be far more dangerous than the ones which attempted to claw him to death; not to mention it was another two versus one. This time though it was far more even. Now _he_ had the element of surprise.

"Exalted... Kill... Devour... Decay..." One of the creatures groaned.

"Eat this monster!" Luso roared as he leaped from the forest, and slammed his sword into the first Risen's back. The risen fell on the ground from the heavy blow, seemingly stunned from the attack. Perhaps it was attempting to surprise him later by playing dead, but it didn't move. Despite that, Luso took the time to hack at the creature until it melted into the earth. No fight with these monsters was over until they had vanished.

The second monster expected him, and as such was a far tougher foe. It hurled its axe towards Luso, before rushing towards him with a screeching howl.

The mercenary managed to deflect the axe somewhat as the tomahawk bounced off the shield on his shoulder but he was not able to avoid the Risen's charge. Despite the creature's muscles had decayed it still possessed enough strength to throw Luso five feet backwards into a tree.

As Luso scrambled to pick himself back up, the Risen picked up its fallen comrade's axe and continued to advance towards him. Sword and axe clashed against each other in a wild flurry of blows and parries.

"Damn it Cleric, don't stand and gawk!" Luso shouted as the creature forced its axe closer and closer to his face. "You're useless here-get the hell away!"

"I am a Shepherd," The girl replied. "What kind of a person would I be if I ran away from danger? I'm sick and tired of being treated like a delicate little flower!"

The mercenary ducked under one of the Risen's swipes and jabbed forward with his sword. "Yeah? Well, what are you going to do Shepherd? Break your staff at them?"

"Hah!" The Shepherd raised her healing staff. "I may not be a fighter, but we'll see who can still fight after if you get chopped up. This staff of mine can heal your wounds."

"Fine," Luso charged towards the Risen, as the creature prepared to strike. In the last moment he dove past the creature, crumpling into an ungainly heap on the other side. Stumbling back to his feet, Luso stood back up and raised his sword once again. "Stay behind me then."

"I've got it!" The cleric cheered and waved her staff. The term healer did not do the girl justice; with a bright flash of green light, Luso felt his muscles kniting back together, fatigue leaving his body and his previously bandaged cuts and scrapes being covered with a quickly forming layer of skin. The next few exchanges he could afford to be a little bit more ambitious if this girl was with him.

When the risen swung its axe, Luso stepped to the side and let the weapon sink into his right shoulder. Ignoring the flash of pain, the mercenary responded by slicing the Risen's arm off. The zombie almost looked surprised as Luso swung his sword a second time.

As the headless creature collapsed onto the earth, Luso turned and faced the cleric.

"That's it for him..." Luso said. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," the cleric said as she raised her staff to cast her healing magic once again. "My name is Lissa, and yours is?"

"Luso..." the bandit averted his eyes, looking down at his blade."I'm a... a swordsman of sorts I suppose."

"Oh a mercenary?" Lissa hopped up and down. "Gladiator? Oh wait, that satchel. Its got a mark of the exalt on it. You're a member of the militia aren't you?"

"I'm not anything I could be proud of." Luso said.

"Well it was very gallant of you to jump in to my rescue," Lissa said. "Unless you expect gold in return-"

"No, don't worry." Luso said. "I didn't do this for money. Lissa, did you come with anyone? These can't be the only ones out there."

"With Frederick and my brother Chrom," the girl said. "Ooh! We also picked up this guy Robin too; he's pretty nice but a little bit addled-"

"That's great," the mercenary said as he looked around. "Do you have any idea of where they are?"

"Uh..." Lissa looked absolutely crestfallen. "I don't know, we got separated."

"Any idea of where they went?" Luso said. "Unless they were skilled fighters it is entirely possible that they were overwhelmed."

"Hey! I'll have you know that my brother is the finest swordsman in Ylisse." Lissa said. "Chrom? Where are you?!"

"Keep it down," Luso said as he nervously started to tug Lissa's sleeve. "While your brother may be able to find us better, these creatures could hear us as well."

"Huh? But-"

"Quiet-" Luso shuddered. "Let's stick around for a few minutes and see if your brother comes around poking."

"Huh? I thought you said not to call out again."

"No it's because if I could hear your screams-"

"They were war cries." Lissa muttered.

"-Other people can hear them too. And if these beasts are attracted to sound..."

A shiver ran down Luso's spine as he heard a rustling sound in the grass. Was it another one of them? He wasn't going to take any chances. Luso grabbed Lissa by the wrist, and tugged at her arm as he walked towards an overgrown woodland trail.

"Lissa, come on." Luso stopped and pulled the cleric until she was barely a few centimeters away.

"Luso... wait." The girl protested.

"Come on." Luso said. Paranoia of what could be just beyond the trees sent shivers down his spine. "Stop making such a racket, anything can hear us if you step on every tree branch."

"No, Luso, you don't understand." Lissa hopped up and down. "That was Frederick!"

"Pick a god and pray!" The harsh cry echoed through the woods. As Luso turned around, the only thing he saw was a glimpse of a tawny destrier, and a flash of silver. When he looked down, the mercenary saw a long polearm sticking out of his stomach. "That'll teach you scum for trying to kidnap milady."

"Frederick! Stop it! All he did was protect me!" Lissa chided the great knight. "Really,"

"I'm sorry Milady... When I saw him drag you away from me by the arm..." The knight shook his head. "I may have over reacted."

"Now I have to heal him again!" Lissa grumbled. "Up and at-em, Luso."

The mercenary groaned and rolled over. It was fine the first few times but after being healed again he had a burning sensation in the back of his skull and the urge to throw up; although of course that could have been because he had been stabbed through the stomach. After a few seconds to get his bearings back in order and beat his headache into submission, Luso looked up at the newcomers.

Frederick was a chestnut haired man, youthful, probably in his middle to late twenties or thirties, unless he looked especially young or old for his age. In his brawny arms he held a long lance with a blade of polished silver at the tip although it looked a bit pink in the lighting. Luso would later nauseously realize that the pink was his own blood. Other than the lance, strapped to Frederick's waist was a greenish sword made of old copper and tin and a ratty looking tome was tucked inside his belt. With his stiff back, stern expression, and aquamarine plate armor, the man was a knight in both form and attire.

In other words, Frederick, though their first interaction was not the most friendly was exactly the kind of person Luso wanted at this time. Any burly soldier capable of impaling twenty zombies like a shish-kabob was fine in his book.

Sitting behind Frederick, was an albino man, probably around Luso's age. His white hair was somewhat spiky-a mess could barely be tamed with a comb even on the best days. He was obviously a prisoner of sorts, as the man's wrists were shackled together with a long chain connecting them to Frederick's saddle. Perhaps that was because he was likely to be a Plegian, his long brown coat was of the same make as Isaac's with six purple eyes stitched into his jacket's sleeves.

"Milady Lissa... What exactly did this Luso protect you from?" Frederick said. "I find it hard to believe that a natural disaster like this could be stopped with a sword point."

"Monsters..." Lissa said. "There were these creepy men with glowing red eyes. They turned to dust after he stabbed them."

"Milady, this is no time for jokes." Frederick said. "I must find Chrom, and-"

"Frederick?" The prisoner said. "Are walking corpses common place in this land?"

"I do not see anything Robin," Frederick said.

"I am a tactician by trade Frederick. I was taught to survey the battlefield, even on the darkest of nights." The albino, Robin, said. "My vision is better than most."

"Can you see milord?" Frederick barked.

"I... Yes." Robin said dryly. "He's too our right, through those thorn bushes and down that ravine."

"..."

"I'm completely serious." Robin said. "He's down there."

"Then hold on." Frederick said. "I am forced to trust you stranger, loathe as I am to do so. Milady, please, sit on this horse with me. I will protect you as long as I draw breath."

"It might be a bit crowded." Lissa noted.

"Sir Frederick, I am aware of... my questionable past." Robin said. "But please, return my tome at the very least."

"Why?" The knight asked.

"Those monsters I told you about... they're down there with him." The tactician said.

Frederick looked down at his horse, as if mentally debating which was more important- protecting Lissa or keeping Robin locked up without weapons. Add the fact that there already was some untrustworthy man with a sword nearby, and the presence of alleged monsters, the great knight's paranoia relented to his logic and he removed the chains binding the albino's arms.

"I will return to you your sword." Frederick said. "But your tome I will withhold. My lord's resistance to magic is all but non-existent but his skill with the blade as captain of the Shepherds is renowned. "

"So you think as long as I only have a sword, even if I'm an assassin, Chrom will have no trouble defeating me." Robin sighed as he leaped off the horse. "A fair assessment Sir Frederick, but I must also tell you. I am no ordinary swordsman."

* * *

A Few Minutes Later

* * *

"You know, for not just an ordinary swordsman, you don't seem to be using anything super special so far." Luso said as he warded off another blow. The risen swordsman he was fighting was awfully wily for a corpse. It tried another darting lunge before retreating from a wide swing.

"Well, what did you expect, a secret technique or something?" Robin said. "My blade to sprout thunder with every strike? Some ability that would allow me to split into two versions of myself?"

"Actually, yeah" Luso replied as he backed away from the risen. With a few shuffling steps, Luso circled around, beat the creature's sword aside and closed within the Risen's guard.

"That technique..." Robin muttered.

"What? The old bat and lunge?" Luso said.

"No I'm certain I've practiced it before. It's an unusual feeling... a... fencing technique? Ylissean? Akanein? No it's a risky technique. Those schools of battle were far more conservative. No that aggressive style was first practiced in Grust." Robin said. "Yes, that's it. That particular footwork-"

"Can we analyze techniques after the battle?" Luso said. "I mean, study it all you want. I'm just flailing on instinct, and maybe a little bit of Epee practice."

"I don't intend to study it." Robin said. A risen leaped out of the forest and lunged towards Robin, axe in hand. "I intend to use it."

The tactician slid his foot back, dodging the swiping blow of the Risen. While lunging forward, the tactician knocked the Risen's axe to the ground and impaled the creature with his bronze sword.

Luso followed up the tactician's strike by slicing down the Risen's back. The creature fell to the earth and dissolved. "Nicely done." Robin said. "We did a fairly good job in holding this position."

"That's great." Luso sheathed his sword, and picked up the blade one of the risen had dropped. "But I don't think killing three of these things and standing our ground for less then five minutes counts for anything."

"Unfortunately as Frederick left to go look for Chrom when those creatures over there come towards us we'll die. So start running." Robin said, pointing somewhere into the wilderness.

"How much time do we have until they arrive?" Luso said, dropping the sword.

"None." Robin grabbed Luso by the sleeve and threw him into a steep, nearby ravine.

"God, why are there so many thorns!" Luso said as he tumbled uncontrollably down the incline, hitting every bush and vine in the way.

"Yeah, it was a tactical failure on my part." Robin muttered, under his breath. Arrows flew over their heads, impaling into the earthen cover provided by the long furrow in the soil. "I should have stayed on Frederick's horse until after we got through these bushes."

"Oh god, there's a wasp's nest!" Luso screamed. At this point he was rolling down the hill at a speed that Robin didn't think was possible to reach even if one was making a dedicated effort to.

"If only I had a tome... damn... then I could at least deal with these archers without having to fight off every damn creature next to them." Robin mused.

"Ahhhhh! My eyes! Get them away from my eyes!" Luso screamed.

"Luso, come on. We're regrouping with Frederick." Robin said. "And heading towards those abandoned forts. They should provide some cover. I'm pretty sure he's found Chrom by now."

* * *

"My Lord!" Frederick shouted as he tapped the sides of his horse. With a single bound, the horse leaped over any thicket in its way. "I'm coming!"

"Frederick!" Lissa yelped and clutched onto the great knight, "Aren't you riding a bit too fast?!"

"As long as I draw breath, Milord will come to no harm!"

"Chrom!" Robin's voice echoed from God knows where. "That monster you just stabbed is still alive, um, partially alive, undead, okay just stab it again for good measure. You there, um... Mask, uh the masked man, take three steps back and be on your guard, when the next creature attacks, try to remove its leg! Frederick, grab Chrom and that other one and bring them both back here! It's a far more defense able location!"

"How can Robin see us from so far away?" Chrom said as he stabbed the Risen on the ground.

The masked man said nothing, and gripped his sword just a tiny bit tighter.

Just as Robin said, another Risen swiped at him in a few seconds.

"Not much for conversation are you?" Chrom grunted.

* * *

"Damn Robin, how can you see that far?" Luso asked, as he and Robin scrambled through the woods.

"It doesn't matter." Robin said. "All that matters is we survive this night."

"I suppose that's true." Luso sighed. "Are you sure that Frederick will be alright?"

"Oh please," Robin snorted. "He's a great knight. I'd be more surprised if any of those creatures scratched him."

"Hmm... he doesn't seem to be the type to get banged up." Luso said.

"Banged up?" Robin froze for a half second as he took another long look towards some shadowy figure. "Damnit! Frederick watch out for the one with the hammer. Take the long way around. No, you fool, why are you charging towards it? It's going to kill you!"

"No time for this! Milord could be injured! Dead! Had his clothing torn!" Frederick roared in frustration. "Farewell, foul beasts!"

Frederick's horse whinnied and lashed forward into something. There was a loud enough snapping sound, that even Luso winced afterwards.

"...Never mind. That wasn't exactly in my calculations." Robin said.

"Well that takes care of that problem." Luso said.

" I suppose so." Robin gripped his sword tightly, as Frederick returned, Chrom, Lissa, and the masked man in tow. "So, why don't we greet our new friends."

"We have another one." Frederick sobbed. "Another swordsman who came out of nowhere. There are too many people to watch. Too many liabilities."

"Peace Frederick." Chrom said. "He saved my life. I never asked you for your name. And you, I don't think I've seen you before."

"My name is Luso," The mercenary said. "You're Chrom right? Lissa's brother? I met your sister by circumstance."

"..." The masked man did not say even a single word.

"What should we call you?" Robin asked, his eyes scanning over his body.

"You may call me Marth."

"Marth..." Luso said. "That name-"

"The same as the hero king of old." Chrom said. "I suppose it suits you."

"Right." Luso said, desperately trying not to think of Super Smash Brothers. "Absolutely right."

"We have everyone in the forest that we know of, and I doubt local villagers would be wandering through the woods at this time of night." Frederick said. "I suggest that we fight our way out and rally a seek and destroy team with the local militia by the end of the week."

"We may not even have to fight," Robin said. "The creatures, at least the surviving ones seem to be rallying towards one place. If we stay alert we could probably go around them."

"No." Chrom said. "These monsters are a threat to all villagers. We will destroy them. If they're rallying together we should be able to rout them all in one go."

Chrom stabbed his sword into the earth. His eyes were determined, without hesitation or doubt in the task he was going to do. It scared Luso quite a bit. "Robin, you're a tactician, do you think it's possible that we can undertake such a task?"

"With proper strategy and positioning we should be more then capable of doing so." Robin said. "Though it will be dangerous. And I may want to run some tests."

"Tell us."

"Chrom... one condition please." Robin said.

"And what is it? We cannot simply just give you anything you want." Chrom asked. "But if it's to defend the realm-"

"My thunder tome. I want it back." Robin said.

"Frederick." Chrom turned towards the great knight. The great knight grudgingly obliged, handing over the yellow book over to the tactician.

Robin flipped through the book and opened his hand. A ball of electricity, the basic thunder spell, formed and was levitating over his palm. With a twitch of his finger the spell flew forward and smashed into a tree. Frederick made a strangled noise as it caught on fire.

"Are you trying to cause a forest fire?!" The Great Knight shouted.

"No. All will be explained with time." Robin said. "Now, Luso, I want you to run up right next to those rocks over there."

"I don't know Robin. If you say so." Luso glanced nervously towards the boulder. In the end he agreed and climbed up on top of the rocks Robin pointed towards. When he reached the top he saw in the distance eight pairs of glowing red eyes. Luso's blood froze in his veins when he made eye contact with a single pair, brown meeting crimson. Within seconds the creatures started to charge howling in the way only the risen could.

"What the hell Robin?!" Luso scrambled back under the cover of the rocks as an arrow and two throwing axes flew over his head.

"Alright the rest of you all come and follow me!" Robin said. "Frederick, grab Luso so he doesn't fall behind."

"Where are we meeting?" The Great Knight said.

Robin sighed as he flicked his finger again. Another tree burst into flames.

Frederick growled as he rode back to grab the mercenary.

With the swordsman tucked under one bulky arm, the Great Knight quickly rode back to his rightful place by Chrom's side, arrows flying haphazardly all around him.

"The beasts are approaching." Frederick said as he rode beneath the forest fire Robin had started.

"Yes Frederick we see the arrows." Robin said flatly. "And as you can see, we are all running as fast as we can. Now are you ready to listen for stage two of the plan? Because if so, pay attention. I can't talk very well while sprinting for my life."

"I'd rather know why you chose to bait these creatures instead of telling us the plan before we had to worry about being eviscerated!"

"I was not sure about how these creatures think. I had a hunch but I needed proof to form a solid strategy. These creatures may resemble humans but they are not anything of the sort." Robin explained. "In order to determine which strategy would be best I had to test the waters."

"You used me as bait." Luso suppressed the urge to punch the tactician in the face. In fact, had Frederick not been holding him by the waist, Luso would have smashed his face in right there. "**_You used me as bait._**"

"Not without good reason. Everyone, we can stop running now." Robin said. "We have gone out of these creatures' "target range". They will not see us when we are this far away. That was the first thing I learned from you acting as bai- I mean with my test. But the more interesting aspect I learned was how how these creatures think."

"They are zombies. They probably groan, shamble, and devour the flesh of the living." Luso said. "Not much thought there."

"Indeed. These beasts are like wolves in their temperament. They are ruthless and hunt in packs." Frederick said. "Absolute monsters."

"While I don't entirely agree with the metaphor, you did get something right Frederick. They have an Alpha, a pack leader" Robin pointed towards one particularly large Zombie, illuminated by the burning trees. "See? Look at those hand signals, its ordering the other creatures to move about."

"Damn, so it's ordering all of these monsters to come after us?" Luso said. "Then what was with their half hearted attacks?"

"The Risen can operate independently." Marth said, his voice calm but just a tiny bit high pitched. "It just so happens that none of them are intelligent as their leader. But even a dumb beast is capable of terrifying things."

"Is that what these creatures are called? The Risen?" Chrom said. "How much do you know about them?"

"Not much." Marth replied, his black mask glinting just a bit too much in the moonlight. "Their origins are the foul energies of Grima and skilled dark mages can create or direct them. But that is all I know."

"Hmph, the name fits." Chrom said.

"If their origin is from Grima, that tells us Plegia is most likely behind this cataclysm." Frederick growled. "Damn them!"

"Hey," Luso protested. "Don't be so hasty, what if it's all a mistake?"

"It's not a mistake," Chrom said. "It's... sad. But it is the truth. Gangrel and his dastards have been sending bandits to terrorize our people. He wants a war and had Ylisse had any lesser Exalt, it would have already begun. Mark my words, this event is just another one of his schemes."

"But... I..." Luso hesitated. The bandit bit his tongue. What could he have said?

"Now we have a name for them. Very useful." Robin snarked. "About the Risen, they didn't react to the fire, nor did they make any motion when animals passed them by. It was only when a living human being was within their sight that they came after us. They seem to only respond to living human beings. If we give them a tad bit of bait, they'll chase after us. Is that right Marth?"

"Yes." He said bluntly.

"Thanks. If we go straight after them they would be able to overwhelm or kill at least one of us if anything, and I say anything, went south. But since we can get them to come after us..." Robin said.

"A trap." Luso said. "Simple."

The tactician smiled ever so slightly. "Sir Frederick. I saw forts that were overgrown with foliage on the ride into the forest. Do you think that we could use them?"

"They were made for this purpose." The Great Knight said. "To defend the realm."

"Allow me to rephrase my question. How would you feel if we destroyed them?"

"... While I would normally discourage such an action I don't think we have a choice."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Next time I would like to learn about the collateral damage before we start destroying things." Frederick grumbled.

"Alright." Robin said. "Now, we head to the forts. But first, let's go over the plan Chrom, you're bait. Luso, you're his backup. Frederick stay frosty and if anything goes wrong you'll be there to assist. Stick with me, Marth and we'll provide moral support."

"Why is Milord the bait? Why not me?" Frederick barked.

"Because these Risen have one more trait I saw." Robin said, tapping his foot in frustration. "If they catch the sight of anyone with the brand of the exalt, these creatures go absolutely mad. When Luso acted as bait they approached slowly and cautiously. When they saw Chrom, they charged at him with reckless abandon. If we want them to go where we want them to go, we have to do it like this."

"Milord-" Frederick said.

"Peace Frederick." Chrom said. "Though you may call me too trusting, I believe in Robin's plan. If it's for the sake of my people I ought to be able to bear such a task. Luso, with me."

"I'm right behind you Chrom." Luso said. "Where do you want us to go, Robin?"

A howl rolled through the woods, causing Lissa to yelp and jump nearly a foot in the air.

"How about both of you run over to that tree and rub bear grease and meat tenderizer in your hair" Robin shivered slightly thinking about the sound. "Make sure to make as much noise as possible."

"Damn my life." Luso said.

**~~o.O.o~~**

"Why is it that it's always me who gets cut up in these scrapes?" Luso mumbled, his was hair frizzy after a close shave from Robin's thunder tome, and his armor was covered with a new set of lacerations and blood. Lissa flitted back and forth healing the entire group from a myriad of cuts and bruises.

Chrom grinned wearily. "Well you did take up the front when after that Risen Chief nailed me with that short axe. Naga, you may have even saved my life."

"Yeah, well you did block god knows how many swords with my name on them. I'm still surprised we escaped from that fort alive." Luso groaned. "There were far too many close shaves."

"Shut up you big baby." Robin said. "You two weren't in any real danger. I made sure that none of the bigger ones would hit you without being shocked a few times first."

"Your plan had us escaping the fort through vines that grew on the side of the fortifications" Luso said. "While I acknowledge it was brilliant and unconventional I do have a few choice words on the safety of climbing down a three story high wall on ivy."

"Look at the benefits; the Risen are trapped now!" Robin exclaimed. "Locked inside of the fort and all the exits cut away and blocked with fallen timber. We can sit back and watch them die."

"Yes. As if they will never escape." Frederick said. "As if we can kill them from outside of a locked fortification. As if these creatures need to eat or drink to survive."

"Oh. No." Robin shook his head. "That's what the fire was for. It should be any minute now."

Luso, Chrom, Frederick and Lissa turned to look back at the fort. Right on cue, black smoke started to rise from the stone walls. About five minutes later the entire fortress was aflame and collapsing upon itself. Within two hours the structure had become a massive heap of broken rock and chipped mortar as wooden supports burned away and already weathered columns crumpled under the increasing pressure.

"That should not be physically possible. A fort can't just disintegrate." Luso said. "How... how did you do that?"

"While you and Chrom were running around in circles, fleeing for your lives, I was in the fort, liberally applying lantern oil and weakening certain choice supports." Robin said. "I even set a candle so that it would melt away and ignite my little surprise after a certain amount of time."

"But you wouldn't be able to control it." Luso said. "All you would be able to do is set it up and run away. What would you have done if we were still in the fort?"

"Ah, but you weren't." Robin pointed out with a wave of his hand. "I made sure of that."

"Well," Chrom said, "Property damage aside, I must say this mission was extremely successful. And I have to attribute it to you three. Had you not been here this situation would have been much worse. Robin, Luso, Marth, this is a time of strive for Ylisse. Tensions are running high and with these new monsters, I need every capable hand possible. I lead a small elite force called the Shepherds that keeps the peace within the realm. All three of you would be more then welcome additions to our force. What do you say?"

"I apologize." Marth shook his head. "While I have... no... well... I appreciate your offer, but I cannot sir. Never mind. I will take my leave." And with that said Marth vanished into the woodlands.

"Chrom, I have no memories. I have no life or previous affiliations that I can think of." Robin smiled. "If you would have me and my far from standard tactics, I will gladly join your force."

Frederick's eye started twitching as he surveyed the two small forest fires and the still burning ruins of the fortress. "Milord, I must advise you-"

"Would you really ask me to turn away a tactician of Robin's caliber?" Chrom said. "His methods may be unusual, but his effectiveness is without question. Besides, he had plenty of opportunities to assassinate me or flee. He did neither. If that doesn't speak to his character, I don't know what will."

The blue haired swordsman turned and faced Luso, his deep cobalt eyes piercing into Luso's brown. "And what do you say Luso? Your swordsmanship is fair even if a bit crude, and you showed quite a bit of bravery in combat. How would you feel about joining the Shepherds?"

The offer was tantalizing. It was the chance for a new leaf, to get things started off with the right foot. Everything Luso could think of was telling him to accept. Yet one fact resonated in his mind. He was a bandit, one of the people the Shepherds were sworn to destroy. He was a monster who had butchered innocents, not some paragon of virtue. There was no rationalizing his actions, nor his cause. Chrom's side was the furthest from where he belonged.

"I'm sorry... I must decline." Luso replied sadly. "I don't... I just can't."

"I see." Chrom said. "You must have some other obligation. But know this, my offer still stands, come to Ylisstol any time. I'll be the first to welcome you in."

"I'll think about it. " Luso stood up and brushed his pants. Right before he turned about and walked away, a stray thought drifted into his mind. Luso wasn't quite sure what drove him to tell Chrom what he was to say, the words simply leaked out. "I must tell you something. Bandits in this area will undoubtedly be affected by this catastrophe. Some of them beset by guards will be rallying to an area nearby Southtown. Take that advice as you will Chrom, but I'll suggest that you avoid that area."

"I understand." Chrom nodded.

"Perhaps we'll meet again. Goodbye Chrom." Luso said as he stumbled away.

* * *

**Author's notes.**  
**I decided to go a little bit into detail about some of the stuff I put in. I will also answer questions posed in PMs and Reviews here too. Many of you readers are fans of Awakening but aren't familiar with older Fire Emblem games. So references to older games will also have a place here. This may become a re-occurring thing as long as I don't get too lazy.**

**Robin's explanation of Luso's swordsman ship is a demonstration of his "Veteran" skill. In this story, Robin was formerly taught a huge range of weapons and techniques and simply forgot how to use them with his ever so convenient amnesia. Whenever he sees a technique he studied before he can quickly relearn it as the basics of said technique are already encoded in his implicit memory.**

**The Soothsires's (Luso's bandit group) namesake was a bandit group in the mountain chain "the ghoul's teeth" which Navarre {Kickass myrmidon with a killing edge who will kill all your dudes if you don't recruit him} was a part of in the first Fire Emblem game. (The one with Marth. From the game not titled Smash Bros Melee). **

**Akaneia was a nation that spanned the middle of the continent. Liberating it from Dohlr was a major part of FE1. Altea, Aurelius, and Akaneia later form the Archanean league, a military alliance led by Marth which defeats the Evil Earth Dragon Medeus. In the distant future sections of the Holy Kingdom of Akaneia become part of Ylisse.**

**Grust was the homeland of Camus the Sable, the founder of the "Noble general who fights the Hero" archetype in fire emblem. (Mustafa in Awakening!) Its territories become a part of Plegia in the future. Luso using a Grustian style showcases an aggressive style of combat and ties into the story. Matthew was Plegian and naturally would be more familiar with Plegian techniques.**

**Lastly, Luso's name in and of itself is a name from Final Fantasy Tactics. No Fire Emblem references there.**

**Tomas is the name of an archer from Fire Emblem 1 as well. Nobody ever used him though. Sort of like his fate here right?**

**Isaac is just a fun name. It actually isn't Isaac's actual name, as will be revealed in the future.**

**Anyways, I do not own anything. Thank sheshellsally for Beta reading. Review and check out her stuff if you have time.**


	6. Prelude

"What do you feel about Luso's suggestion?" Chrom asked. "He said it's possible that bandits would attack Southtown."

"It could be a ruse." Frederick said. "Did you notice? Luso had a Plegian accent. He could be drawing us away from an actual target."

"But the majority of Southtown's militia went with Sully to eliminate the bandit camp." Chrom reasoned. "It's relatively unguarded and it has the greatest stock of medical supplies within ten miles of here after it was used as a fall back point in the Ylisse-Plegia crusade. If these bandits ran into the Risen or if some escaped from Sully's assault they'd want to patch up their wounded. I wouldn't be surprised if they did decide to attack Southtown."

"Then Milord will take his suggestion seriously?" Frederick said. "Where should we position ourselves then?"

"If we are expecting bandits," Robin said. "Then being completely visible in the town itself would not be the best solution."

"Wouldn't our presence deter the bandits?" Frederick said.

"It would." Robin nodded. "But they'd just target somewhere else. If the bandits see Shepherds in Southtown they would move East to the Far-Fort or north towards the Lea hills."

Robin stood up a little bit straighter and bit his lip. "How strange. That information just popped into my head."

"So we set up an ambush?" Chrom asked.

"Buy a few rooms in the nearby inn." Robin said. "Southtown's inn is actually a repurposed fort and will provide a defensible area to fall back on if things go sour. I'm afraid any strategy I make will have to be adopted after the attack begins however. War is unpredictable you see."

"Their inn is one of the best in Ylisse too! Bedbugs don't like stone walls I hear." Lissa sang. "So even if nothing happens, at least we'll get a good night's sleep."

"I'm afraid not Milady." Frederick said. "If this plan is to succeed we must remain vigilant. That means nightly watches."

"Aw..." Lissa said.

"If it bothers you, I will take a double shift to allow you a pleasant night's sleep." Frederick said. "Soft beds anyhow are not suited to a knight's rest. The only comfort a true knight should have is in milord's service."

"Whatever you say Frederick." Robin rolled his eyes. "Let me just walk through the damn place and look for escape routes in case things go south in South...Town."

"No." Chrom said. "No puns,"

Robin started to snicker uncontrollably. "I'll admit it. That one wasn't very punderful but-"

"Stop." Chrom sighed. "please stop."

* * *

"So, Matthew, are you up for a good fight?" Garrick cracked his knuckles. "These fellas won't know what hit them. They'll think twice the next time before they send their militia along with the Shepherds after we're through with them."

Luso did not respond, he stared at his sword's grip and tightened it with a few tugs.

"Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you!" Garrick said.

"Sorry." Luso said. "I'm just a little bit out of it."

"Well get your head on straight." Garrick said. "You're our best swordsman since Tibalt fell for some town hussy after she patched him up after our grand escape. He ought to have known he doesn't belong among those damn Ylissians."

"Garrick." Luso said, as he ran his finger over the edge of his sword. "I understand. I'm no righteous man, just tell me what to do. "

"Where did this talk of righteousness come from you sissy! Another word like that and I'll start thinking you sympathize with the Ylissians!"

"Yeah, it would be, wouldn't it." Luso said. "Where are we going?"

"Southtown. We strike at dawn. I'll leave it to Isaac to come up with the details. Speaking of him would you mind waking him up so he can come up with something?" Garrick uncorked a flask tied to his hip. "You arrived after his shift ended anyhow, so the two of you may as well catch up. You ought to have seen his face when he realized that you weren't with us. Well...I suppose everyone's face was like that. We lost a lot."

Luso nodded ever so slightly before he returned to the maintenance of his sword. He ran a whet stone just one last time, and used an oily rag to wipe away all traces of his battle with the Risen from the blade. With a sigh, he sheathed his sword and straightened out his tattered armor. Nearly everything was cut apart in some way or another, and the Soothsires left all the spare sets back at their old camp.

Come to think about it, the same could be said about the group's morale and state of health. Garrick's words summed up the general sentiment. They had indeed lost a lot. As he went searching for Isaac he had stepped over plenty of other bandits covered with cuts and scrapes. Some were packing bags to flee into the forest and others stared aimlessly into space, lost in waking dreams and nightmares. Eventually he found the magician curled up into a ball using his bent arm as a pillow. Isaac had looked so peaceful that it seemed almost wrong waking him up.

"Ugh." Isaac said. "Who, in Grima's name is waking me up at this hour! I swear I'll burn you-oh."

"Isaac," Luso smiled.

"Matthew, I... I thought you were dead!" Isaac wrapped his arms around Luso in a tight hug. "When did you did you come back? When we escaped... You weren't with us. Then we saw those... things. Those monsters. No one could have survived in that forest alone, hell, the section that attacked our group was enough - was enough..."

"I actually got help from a few Ylissians." Luso unsure of how he should react. Should he let his arms hang out, wrap them around him? "It's going to be a long story. Do you want me to tell it to you?"

"It's all right." Isaac finally let go. "As long as you're safe. Grima, after Tomas stayed behind, you are the only person here that I trust. You have no idea..."

Luso stared at Isaac's frame. His Grimleal cloak and shirt was loose and torn, and his eyes sagged down to his cheeks due to a combination of fatigue and sleep deprivation. If his eyes weren't fooling him, the magician was also badly wounded, as he had a long strip of bandages tightly bound down on his chest hidden underneath a grayish-white shirt. He looked and sounded awful.

"Isaac, are you alright?"

"Ah yes, sorry I lashed out." Isaac rubbed his eyes. "I'm cramping up, I mean, from all the running and fleeing for our lives you know, so I'm not feeling the best right now; not to mention with what happened yesterday with Tomas. I never expected him to volunteer you know. As an archer he... how could I... You know..." Isaac stared at the ground.

"Trust me Isaac," Luso said. "I understand. Don't feel bad, you did the best you could. I didn't want to wake you up but Garrick ordered me too. Are you feeling better?"

"Well enough to function, but I'm not in tip top condition" Isaac said. "What exactly did he want me to do?"

"Come up with a strategy for assaulting Southtown." Luso said.

"You really should learn to question orders." Isaac said. "If you had, I could have slept better."

"Maybe I should." Luso said while thinking of his run in with Chrom.

"Well, there isn't much that we can do..." Isaac groaned and raised his hand to his forehead in a weary attempt to steady himself. "A frontal attack is the best we can do. We have some large bags and that cart from that merchant we killed to obtain supplies. We could claim to be coming in to buy and sell goods then start chopping away and stealing everything we need."

"Wouldn't these villagers be a bit suspicious of a bunch of ragged looking fellows just stumbling into the town claiming to sell stuff?" Luso cocked his head. "I...I mean-"

Isaac merely shook his head. "I don't know Matt. I don't think I should be the one to come up with the plans. Leader was the one who used to take care of that. I gave advice to Leader before Garrick took command but yesterday was the first time that duty was pushed onto my shoulders. And what did I come up with? A method which threw Tomas to the dogs, so just a little over half of us could escape the Shepherds and those...things"

"Isaac, if you want to talk about anything, I'm fine with it." Luso said, tugging the magician towards a fallen log. "You know, if you want to talk about Tomas, your reason for joining up, anything really. Just let it out."

Isaac silently peered over his spell tome. After a few moments of silence he removed a small card from between the pages. "Take a look." Isaac said.

Luso took the yellowed sheet of paper and unfolded it. It was a charcoal sketch of a small family, masterfully done; in it a mother was clutching a child wrapped in a blanket and a father was holding his daughter by the hand.

"Do you see that child?" Isaac smiled. "That was me. Be careful with that, it's the only picture I have of them."

"You look just like your mother." Luso said as he raised the sketch to the light. The face of the mother in the picture looked very similar to what Luso would gauge what Isaac's face would look like in ten or twenty years.

Isaac chuckled and took back the drawing. "How flattering, but I'm fairly certain that most people would compare boys to their fathers. "

"The resemblance was uncanny." Luso said. "I regret nothing. So... Is the reason why you joined the Soothsires for your family's sake?"

"There no disputing the fact that this job pays well, with all the looting and the like." Isaac said. "But... I'm here because of my own selfish reasons. If I really was to support my family's honor and house, I would have stayed in Plegia."

"What do you mean?" Luso asked. "I don't understand."

Isaac stared blankly into space, struggling to come up with an answer he could tell. "...Did you know that Isaac isn't actually my real name?" Isaac said. "If I had kept my old name, then I'd never have been permitted to come here. I had to lie to join these bandits and I've thrown away my old life to live a lie ever since. I cannot kill the one who has wronged me, as he has already passed away. Yet my revenge is what gave me the strength to live and my revenge is what led me here. Even if I commit atrocity after atrocity, if I can just... It's hard to explain."

"I'm not quite sure I understand." Luso said.

"Hey," Isaac said. "Revenge may not be the most noble thing to fight for, but it's a lot better reason then for the loot and the slaves."

"I suppose it is, but that doesn't make it honorable to begin with. Besides, that may just make things worse. If you kill someone out of revenge, then someone else will probably go after you too, right? Nobody wants that."

"Well if they didn't want us to start killing them, then Cornelius shouldn't have ordered a crusade to begin with!" Isaac said. "They started killing us first. Hell, they kept on killing us until they ran out of men to kill us with. If they wanted peace so badly, then they ought to have sued for it before Cornelius died. Grima, before they ran out of soldiers too! What did they expect, for every Plegian to shrug their shoulders and blow the entire war off after just because they started claiming they loved peace all of a sudden? After spilling so much blood that for every man over the age of sixty there are three women? Can such a bloody nation claim that they are peaceful then?!"

Isaac stood up and slammed his fist against a tree trunk. He turned about and glared at Luso. "War is inevitable! Do you think that Ylisse will stay peaceful forever? This damned peace is just a ruse to rebuild their army so they can destroy us once and for all. The moment they're strong enough, the crusades will start all over again. Now, Plegia is stronger than Ylisse, if we are too survive, we must strike first!"

"Do you think it's possible that Ylisse and Plegia will just stop fighting?" Luso asked.

"No." Isaac said. "For there to be peace, someone would have to be able to watch their own friends die and still be willing to sue for peace. To believe that such an angel exists in Holier than thou, blood-stained Ylisse is like searching through a pile of refuse looking for diamonds."

"But if we could..."

"Then peace would be something to strive for." Isaac spat. "But mark my words, such an person does not exist."

Luso stared glumly down at his feet. "I see..."

"And Matt?"

"What Isaac?" Luso raised an eyebrow.

"I think I reopened my wounds. Punching that tree was not a smart move." Isaac collapsed to his knees, his right hand flying to his waist. "Can you help me up?"

"Yeah." Luso grabbed Isaac's hand and looped his arm around his shoulder.

"Sorry for being a bother." Isaac murmured.

"It's not a problem, you can lean on me no matter the occasion." Luso replied. "That's a promise."

"Thanks." Isaac gave Luso a weary smile. "Come to think of it, I should make my report. Ugh, I don't really want to get up right now though."

"Rest as long as you need." Luso said as he helped Isaac stumble back next to a tree to lean against. "I just have one question."

"What is it?" Isaac grumbled.

"What's your real name?" Luso asked.

"After we leave the Soothsires..." Isaac leaned more and more onto Luso's shoulder, his words becoming softer by the moment. "The next time we see each other, I'll tell you my real name. Now that's my promise to you."

At some point, blood loss and lack of sleep forced the magician to the point of collapsing. As Luso heard Isaac breathing softly into his chest, he considered telling him that Garrick had scheduled the raid tomorrow morning whether or not they had a plan. When Isaac twitched in his sleep and gripped onto Luso's jacket just a little bit tighter, the mercenary ripped off his cape and wrapped it around the magician like it was a blanket.

"Sleep well." Luso said. "I'll tell Garrick what you came up with Isaac. Just rest for tonight."

Then a single terrible thought came to Luso's head. He pulled his cape away and removed Isaac's cloak. The clothing and bandages wrapped around Isaac's entire lower body, his chest, stomach and thighs were stained with blood. Luso's face darkened as he draped his cloak around Isaac again. The Soothsires had better move fast. Isaac needed a concoction or something of the sort as soon as possible, no matter the cost.


	7. With Us!

"Alright you dastards," Garrick raised his short axe. With a few enthusiastic shouts and swings of his weapon he rallied the bandits into something that loosely resembled a formation. "Grab all the weapons and vulneraries. If you see anything shiny take it if you can!"

The Soothsires attacked the town as a single wave of muscle and desperation. Isaac's plan had worked marvelously. It was actually kind of amusing how Garrick managed to convince the villagers that all the bandits were weapons-smiths. Who sold their wares while dressed in full armor? Weapons and armor that often times still had dried and not so dried blood all over them.

Honestly the cover-story couldn't have been more obviously fake if Garrick had said that they were giving a free axe to every man in the village. Maybe that was why it even managed to fool anyone, the villagers thought the possibility was too stupid for anyone to consider actually doing it so they ignored that it could possibly happen.

Either way it resulted with the same chaos that happened during every raid, people screaming and people dying. After the events that had happened just a few days ago, Luso was repulsed more then he usually was from the brutality he was now all too used to. When the other bandits jostled about, pushing him towards the other villagers to hunt down and kill, Luso just stepped to the side; a luxury he once was unable to do. It was funny how even a fifty percent casualty rate could have its upsides.

"Hey Matthew you don't seem very enthusiastic today!" Garrick said. "Is it because Isaac's sleeping back at base camp? Not feeling so motivated now that he isn't here?"

"Whatever you say Garrick," Luso said, his eyes distant and unfocused. "I... I don't know."

"You need to work twice as hard you know to make up for it. You were the one he insisted that he get some rest." Garrick hissed. "He'll be no good when he's collapsing from magic burnout you said. If you aren't going to cut open these shopkeepers and steal supplies, then go down by the inn. The armory and barracks is just around the corner and the few members of the local militia who stuck around could sneak through the alley, grab weapons and try to pose a bit of resistance."

Garrick laughed heartily, his mad smile exposing his yellow teeth. "If you don't want to smash and grab, then act as bait so the more fired up members of the band aren't dragged down by your damn apathy. I've seen Williams and Johnson take breathers from the pillaging because they saw you standing around and doing nothing!"

Luso turned aside and nodded. He quickly jogged down the burning streets; a sight he was all too familiar too by now. What he was not familiar with was the other bandits that happened to be fleeing with whatever had came through that side alleyway. Two or three of them were running like cowards but the rest were grabbing their friends and spreading out.

Luso drew his sword and checked its balance with a twirl. "Well it looks like this is going to be a huge mess." He said as he waited at the other end.

* * *

"It appears that Luso's information panned out." Robin said. "I can see three fires and two corpses with axes still in them from this vantage point alone so there are definitely bandits in the area. My vision is blocked by two houses so I could be wrong, but judging by the lack of arrows on the dead villagers I'd say that we have no enemy archers."

"How many villagers are still out there to rescue?" Chrom said.

"Six." Robin said. "At least from what I can see, there could be more hidden within the buildings. Keep an eye out."

"That's if they kept their wits about them of course." Frederick noted.

"If any bandits went into the buildings they could come rejoin the fight. Keep an eye out anyways." Robin ordered. "And Frederick, if you fight any sword wielders I suggest you pick up their weapons. The majority of our enemies are using axes, so if you wield a sword, you will gain the weapon triangle advantage. And if they have an axe maybe take that too, so we'll be ready when a lance wielder comes along. And any gold so we can buy weapons if we want to. Actually take everything but the smallclothes. We can always sort through it later. Wait now that I think about it-"

Changing the topic from Robin's suggestion of wanton looting, Frederick said. "Milord Chrom, I know that you have no taste in killing-"

"Come to think of it, maybe that a few of these bandits saw us." Robin flipped through his spell book. "After I fried one with a thunder spell, his buddy went running. So don't expect the element of surprise here."

"-but we face experienced bandits, who will show no quarter."

Robin flipped through another few pages of his thunder tome. His eyes widened and he dove to the floor as an axe flew just where his head had been just a few seconds ago.

"This case Milord, is kill or be killed," Frederick finished; not seeming to notice the hand axe that was embedded in his shoulder plate. "They will show no mercy. So Milord, may I suggest that I offer you armor for your other shoulder-"

"Just out of curiosity," Robin muttered as he threw another bolt of lightning out the inn's window. "Why are all of you standing around upstairs? Hurry up will you? There are five villagers that need to be saved."

Chrom snapped out of his stupor. "Wait one second; I thought you said there were six?"

"I know. I meant what I said." Robin replied. "Did you think these bandits were going to wait around till we finished talking?"

"Damn it!" Chrom said. "There's no time to lose. Come on Robin, let's go save those five villagers!"

"Four now," Robin said. "Er... ah... actually, will four and a half do?"

"A half?" Lissa asked.

Robin scratched his head. "Now that I think about it, you can survive without the bottom half of your body right? So should I say four and three fourths? Four and two thirds?" As the tactician ran a few mental calculations to gauge the worth of each individual part of the body, a gargled scream echoed through the town.

"Wait. Never mind." Robin said. "Not an issue anymore."

"Oh for Naga's sake, get going already!" Chrom said. "Frederick, follow me!"

"Chrom for our strategy you want me to prioritize the civilians, right?" Robin gave Chrom a momentary pause out of courtesy before he moved onto explaining his plan. "Then listen up! If these bandits see Shepherds they'll focus on us more than anyone else. As such, we'll be splitting up to try to distract them. Frederick, as you have the heaviest armor and are the most mobile of all of us, move out towards the church and draw those bandits as far away as possible. Chrom, move around the side of that armory and get those two villagers and to move through _that_ side alleyway. You see where I'm pointing right? Take them to the gap in the wall and tell them to run down the West road as quickly as possible. I'll provide cover with my magic and monitor the situation. Regroup at the village market on my signal. Lissa, if you get lost, its right by the gates."

"What about me? You didn't tell me anything!" Lissa said.

"Wait in the inn until someone takes an axe to the... uh, squishy bleedy bits. You can go on the front lines when you can swing one too. Maybe the supporting line if you pick up a tome." Robin said. "Why are we standing around again?"

Without a second's worth of hesitation but with a long sigh, Chrom drew his sword and ran around the side of the armory. The burning homes and the blood in the streets only gave him the motivation to move even faster. They had wasted enough time already, and he had already failed to save one or two of the villagers.

Just as Robin had mentioned there were a few civilians that were surrounded by a pair of bandits. Apparently the thugs were beating them for their own amusement, taking a sadistic pleasure in kicking them while they were down.

"Back away from those people or die where you stand!" Chrom shouted.

When the bandits caught sight of Chrom's blue hair, they sneered and raised their axes. When they saw the mark of the Exalt, one of them raised an eyebrow. When that lone observant bandit who realized that their assailant also happened to be holding the Falchion put two and two together, he said "Grima, that's Chrom!"

"Really?" The second one said. "Ho, damn, Isaac's going to be dis-ah-pointed he skipped this raid. We need to skedaddle and tell Garrick."

"I know, right?" The first said. "Let's stop talking 'bout skedaddling and just do it already."

And with that mildly confusing exchange, the two bandits scampered away leaving Chrom behind to wonder what exactly was going on.

The two people who the bandits had been terrorizing slowly stood up, staring at Chrom with fearful eyes. They trembled and shivered as they carefully wrapped their ripped clothing around themselves.

"It's going to be alright," Chrom said. "Nothing is going to hurt you. Just follow me."

And they did follow him, around the side alleyway towards what appeared to be an opening in the wall. The alleyway was no large crevice; in fact it was hidden by a few bushes, and was barely large enough for a man to squeeze through. It provided an opportunity for the villagers to flee.

The only issue was what stood between them and the crevice. Chrom could hear footsteps, one light tap after another getting closer and closer.

Chrom narrowed his eyes and motioned for the villagers to move back. "Stay behind me." He said, as he slowly peered around the corner to see who or what would stand in his way.

There was a single bandit with his sword drawn.

"Luso," Chrom said. "Is that you? I don't understand."

"Chrom," Luso replied. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon. But then again, I did tell you that Southtown would be attacked soon. I suppose soldiers like you would want to reinforce the area instead of fleeing."

"The real question is what are you doing here?" Chrom asked. "Why aren't you fighting these bandits? Why are you just standing around? Help me take these people through,"

"I can't do that Chrom." Luso said. "I was ordered not to let anyone pass. They could arm themselves and get in the way."

Chrom's eyes widened and he reached down and gripped the hilt of the Falchion. "So that's why you knew this raid was happening," Chrom growled. "Of course that was the reason."

"Who other than a bandit would know where a bandit would attack?" Luso raised his own blade in response. "You ought to have expected this from the start."

"Why?" Chrom said. "You risked your life to save my sister. You fought alongside me to ensure that no Ylissean would be killed by the Risen, why would you turn and do this?"

Luso raised his sword and closed his eyes. "You seem to think I wanted to do this."

"I offered you a way out." Chrom said. "If you really hated being a bandit you could have taken my offer and become a Shepherd."

"As if I had a choice," Luso replied.

"There is always a choice." Chrom said.

"I am a _bandit_ Chrom!" Luso said. "Even if I wanted to join you, how long would it have been till you found about what I was? What would have happened to me then? Frederick would have skewered me on the end of his lance wouldn't he?"

"But-"

"Do I even deserve that second chance to begin with?" Luso closed his eyes. " Am I the kind of person who ought to be given the title of one of the defenders of the realm?"

Chrom could only stare at the bandit; Luso's eyes were unfocused, almost as if they were made of glass. "When I first killed, I was pushed into it; I didn't have much of a choice. It was so easy, Chrom. I was dirtied. I was stained. The more I killed, the more innocent the target the harder it became to sleep at night. Now I can't feel the blood on my hands anymore. My dreams can't get any worse than they do now. I could kill those villagers over there and sleep just as well as I did before." Luso said.

"If you touch them, then favor or no, you _will_ die where you stand." Chrom said.

"That wasn't what I meant." Luso shook his head sadly. "Those villagers, they can leave. I won't stop them. But I have changed. I can't go someplace where I don't deserve to go."

"Is that all?"

"What?"

"What you did or who you were in the past does not change what kind of a person you are now." Chrom said. "Robin has amnesia and I still accepted him. You are still that same person who looked out for my sister, the same person who risked their life to help us fight the risen. It's who you are now, what you will do and what you seek to do that matters. Come, join us."

"You'll still take me?" Luso said.

"Gladly," Chrom said as he undid the clasps on his cape. "Take this; it's got the mark of the Exalt on stitched onto its back. It'll mark you as an ally if anyone else takes to the field. When we get to the camp, I'll give you a proper blue cape, one that all Shepherds have."

"This is madness." Luso muttered.

"Glad to see Frederick will have someone who agrees with him for once." Chrom replied. "Alright, let's escort these villagers out of the town and return to the fight."

"What villagers?" Luso asked.

"Wait." Chrom pivoted about, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Where did they go?"

"If you're talking about the people who came with you, they left a while ago." Luso said. "You really do get distracted when you talk, don't you."

"Well, this conversation is what stopped us from fighting." Chrom snorted. "If we didn't talk, I'd have to have killed you. Besides, being able to talk like this is a skill; I bet I'll be able to convince a lot of people to lay down their arms. Perhaps they'd even defect!"

"There he is!" A bandit cried. "I told you folks the Prince is here. We'll get a pretty penny if we take his head. Matthew, come on, let's attack him together!"

"If you want to try diplomacy now, be my guest." Luso said, as he sized up the four of bandits that had arrived. He knew the names of only two of them, although he did recognize all of their faces. Neither were the best fighters in the Soothsires, but he did know that Algol was a sadist who spent many a night with a trembling prisoner, and Rylan serrated the rusted edge of his sword to make his targets die screaming. The other two were Algol's followers, the people who held the victims down while the leaders did what they wanted.

"You want to make Chrom surrender?" Algol raised an eyebrow. "We never had a royal as a prize before. I can see the appeal."

"It isn't that." Rylan said. "That cloak...Matthew, you _traitor_, you son of a dog. Looks like those Ylisseans did train you, didn't they you little pup?"

"He's a traitor?" Algol said. "I always wondered why he was so quiet and mopey all the time. Well if he's a traitor then maybe we can get a sound from him for once."

Rylan growled his fingers wrapped around his sword-grip. "Well, I always did wonder if you're a screamer. From my experience those who swore the oath to be burned, bound and killed by iron tend to be teeth clenchers, but who knows? Al, I'll take Matt, you can take the Princey."

"Luso, let's do this together," Chrom said.

"Right behind you," Luso said as he eyed the bandits. "We can't take all four of them by ourselves."

"We won't, we'll be meeting up with Robin, Lissa and Frederick in the market." Chrom hissed.

"And that's-"

Chrom scowled. "Past them I know; when I say mark, make a run for it and until then, we fight."

Rylan and Algol rushed forward, their two subordinates tagging just behind them. Rylan was the first to attack, his jagged sword swiping just above Luso head. Quickly ducking forward and slashing upwards with his iron sword, Luso counterattacked but his weapon only nicked Rylan's chest plate. Barely fazed, the bandit raised his sword, intent on sweeping his sword about.

As his sword was out of position to properly counterattack or block, there was only one option that Luso could both logically and instinctively recognize as viable; charge. His left shoulder, still covered by his battered shield, rammed straight into Rylan's chest knocking him onto the ground. As Luso raised his sword to stab Rylan while he was down, the first of Algol's subordinates forced him away, flailing his axe about wildly.

Chrom finished him with a quick and clean stab to the chest. As the bandit knelt from the pain, Chrom raised his sword above his head and cut downwards causing the bandit's to go bouncing across the cobblestones. The prince took just a second to examine the situation as he kicked the corpse aside. Algol was in shock after seeing his friend's death, and Rylan was flat on the ground. There would be no greater opportunity.

"Let's go!" Chrom shouted. Rylan was already scrambling to his feet, and Algol was regaining his senses. The second of Algol's subordinates had wisely chosen to back away, waiting for his two allies to stand back up before he even considered attacking.

The three surviving bandits remained in hot pursuit of Chrom and Luso as they ran towards the market place, but the key word was pursuit. They could not block any escape route or prevent the two from reaching the market.

The first greeting Luso had to the market place was an overcharged thunder spell, that made the air crackle and smell like ozone. He'd gotten the warning to "take cover" by Chrom tackling him to the floor as Robin raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Algol, as it turned out, smelled far more like roast pork then Luso had ever wanted to know.

"Glad to see you two." Robin yawned; sparks flew off of his fingers as he placed his hand over his mouth and stretched. "It seems that Chrom could convince you after all."

"You knew Luso was here?" Chrom asked.

"Well, not really. Consider it a lucky guess; I sort of got that impression he would be here somehow; invisible ties between us all and all that nonsense as you might say." Robin said. "Though honestly, I just happened to see someone wearing Chrom's cloak and decided to adjust my aim."

"So wearing blue and gray just ended up saving my life," Luso muttered. "What do I know?"

"Well, this battle is far from over." Robin chuckled as a pair of bandits rounded the corner of an alleyway. Without even looking, he snapped his fingers and left one of them on the ground twitching with a thunder spell. "You may just lose it in the mean time if you aren't careful. Don't take that the wrong way though. Your life matters to me; I may need you as bait again sometime."

"I swear, someday you're not going to know everything so when I get used as bait I'll get a sword in my gut." Luso grumbled as he rushed forward to finish the bandit off.

"Lissa will patch you up," Robin said. "You'll be as good as new. No downsides _at all." _

Robin paused as though he was contemplating heavily for a few moments. "Well, except for the pain; that tends to hurt quite a bit doesn't it? But don't worry, you sadly aren't going to have the spotlight today."

"You're having a riot with this aren't you?" Chrom muttered as he parried a lunge. "How many more are there?"

"Not that many left actually," Robin said as he moved forward to attack a terrified bandit with his bronze sword. The bandit shoved Robin into a fruit stand, before raising his axe in a desperate attack.

With a grunt, Robin removed a book from god knows where, and raised his hand. A bolt of lightning arced from his fingertips and smashed into the bandit's face causing him to fall to the ground twitching. He then raised his hands a second time and cast a second thunder spell, which finished off the other enemy Chrom and Luso had been fighting.

"That was the last one for now. Now that's strategy, don't you say?" The tactician smirked. "We got through this part with hardly a wound. Permanent wound I mean. Lissa, why don't you go heal Luso?"

"Get out of those apples." Chrom deadpanned.

"Mmm..." Robin said. "We still have a couple bandits to go though. Don't worry though, our part in this battle is done by now."

"What?" Luso said. "But-"

"I'd rather just sit here and watch the show. You can join me if you want, there are plenty of barrels in this marketplace." Robin raised his hand and pointed downtown. Thundering hooves and the shouts of dozens of bandits echoed through the air as Frederick rode his destrier across a bridge towards the market place, with many foes in hot pursuit.

"Gods, how many of them are out there chasing him?" Chrom said. "Even if he's Ylisse's finest knight, Frederick cannot fight off that many bandits by himself Robin."

"Oh, I know." Robin rolled his eyes, as if the blue haired man was simply boring him. "I'm not a fool Chrom. That's why he's riding towards us,"

"And I thought you said that we weren't going to have to fight anymore. Err, how many of them are there?" Luso asked. His chest and arms were covered with lacerations from just a few scrapes from Rylan's sword. Despite Lissa's best efforts, he was still worn out.

"Oh, only about fifteen or so," Robin shrugged as he pulled an apple out from the basket he was sitting in. He first wiped it on his blood stained cloak, then after finding it unsavory, wiped it again with a less bloody part of his coat. Robin then sighed, reached down to grab a second apple and pulled out a ladle. Why there was a ladle in the middle of a bucket of apples, Luso would never know. "It seems like these bandits busted open the town jail and managed to recruit some scum to their cause. Don't worry, I told you, we don't have to lift another finger and I'm not saying that just because I can fire lighting out of my fingers too."

Chrom bit his lip. "three to one odds are-"

"Who said anything about three to one?" Robin said between bites. "Did you count Lissa as a fighter? As useful as her abilities may be, I doubt she'll be blocking any axes with that staff of hers."

"Alright, five to one then," Luso said. "Not much of a change, you know. If we don't have a better plan, I think I may just regret defecting."

"All I was asking was about your math." Robin said. "That's all. Our odds are going to be certainly more even than that."

"Robin, did you set another building to explode?" Chrom said. "Because despite Frederick's-"

"No, no." Robin said. "It's nothing that complicated. You know, what direction did I tell you to send those villagers running?"

"West, I don't see where this is going."

"That's good. Luso, when the Shepherds raided the bandit camp or shall I say your camp, what direction did they come from?"

"The East?"

"No. No. You couldn't have looked that far ahead. That's impossible."

"I'm always three steps ahead," Robin smirked as fifteen militiamen, a teal haired archer, and a cavalier in red armor burst through the town gates with weapons drawn. "Sometimes the simplest solution is the best. If we're outnumbered, all I need to even the odds are reinforcements."

* * *

**Luso, as I stated earlier was based off of the Ogma Archetype. The Ogma archetype often refer to reoccurring loyal, moderately powerful swordsmen which have decent growths and appear in the early chapters of the game. Often times they have ties to Arenas and are in the service of a noble. **

**Officially in Awakening, Gregor is the Ogma archetype of the game but he does not appear early on, nor does he have any ties to Gladiators. I therefore deemed him a Non-Ogma and created my own.**

* * *

Luso's Possible Supports.

Chrom, Robin, Stahl, Vaike, Isaac, Luke, Lon'qu, Libra, Frederick, Yen'fey, Nao'sho Phila, Lissa, Cherche, Sully, Lotice, Anna, Say'ri.

Class List: Fighter, Mercenary, Myrmidon.

Roster: A former bandit who turned a new leaf after being given the opportunity. Although he manages a cheerful facade, some say he seems a bit off in both his words and actions. The most talented at baking cakes.


	8. Ha, It will take some getting used too!

**Aftermath**

"Well Chrom, who are these two?"

Robin and Luso looked up to see the cavalier from before approaching Chrom. The cavalier removed her helmet to reveal a fierce looking woman, with hair as short as her temper. Beside her, the archer gasped and pulled a rose out of his breast pocket only to be shoved aside with a violent blow to the head.

Chrom only shook his head and smiled. "Peace Sully, allow me to introduce you. The one wearing the scruffy looking armor is Luso and the one in the brown cloak is Robin. Robin, Luso, this is my childhood friend Sully; she's one of the leaders of the Shepherds."

"Let me introduce the rest of my group." Sully barked. "The chucklehead with the bow is Virion, and the egghead is Miriel. Miriel's a great magician, and that idiot is sadly-"

"The archest of archers, sirs!" Virion smiled, still sporting a bruise from an earlier blow.

"Well, pleased to meet you both." Luso raised his hand out. "I hope we work well together in the future."

"Ah," Sully said, as she shook his hand. "Chrom's done some recruiting I see; Welcome to the Shepherds. We'll have to get you some new equipment before you get sent out though. That old stuff is torn apart."

Luso glanced down at his armor. The leather jerkin was torn to pieces, covered with small scratches. His shield had more than a few dents in it, and besides Chrom's cape, nearly everything he was wearing had some old bloodstain or hole. And that was before considering the fact that the bandit camp did not exactly facilitate bathing.

"I suppose that's true." Luso stretched out his arms, awkwardly resisting the urge to sniff himself. "I'll need a bath and a change of clothes to look even halfway respectable. Actually do you mind if I do that before I meet the others? We only get one chance for a first impression you know,"

"That's true," Chrom said. "There's a river nearby the barracks where you can rinse yourself off. You can go to the armory later, and get a new suit of clothing. Don't worry about the cost, even after selling equipment to the Feroxi; we still have a lot of old material back from the crusade."

"That should be good." Luso nodded. "I suppose it's time to go?"

"Greetings brave warriors!"

Luso, Chrom and Robin all turned towards the speaker, a farmer, Luso guessed, by his mud stained pants and tunic.

"Please, stay the night in Southtown, Milord." The man said. "We are simple folk of simple means but we would gladly toast your efforts with a feast!"

"We should hurry onto Ylisstol by all means," Frederick said. "But after the battle with the Risen and the bandits, perhaps you deserve a bit of recuperation..."

"I never thought I'd see the day that you ask for a break," Chrom said, the smallest hint of a smile appearing on the corners of his lips. "Are you feeling alright Frederick?"

The knight only smiled in a manner that Luso found just a tad disturbing. "Quite Milord," He said. "Sully and Miriel are competent Shepherds, and if any incident occurs, will be just as skilled in protecting you as I am. I will ride ahead and inform the Exalt of the incident dealing with these... Risen."

"Let me come along too." Luso raised his hand. "As much as I'd like to relax, I'd rather not stick around and have Isaac be able to find me. Too many questions."

Frederick's face twitched once or twice, but he eventually nodded.

"I will take you to the barracks and attempt to make you look somewhat presentable." Frederick said as he climbed onto his horse. "Come quickly; there is no time to waste."

"I'm not quite sure if you realize what you just said." Luso muttered as he chased after the knight.

* * *

As it turned out, when Frederick accidentally implied that it would take a lot to make him look presentable, he was also telling the truth. When he had first seen Matthew's body as a spirit, Luso thought the bandit only looked as badly as he did because he was deathly ill; when he was actually in Matthew's body he never had the opportunity to see his own face and chest.

To put it succinctly, his body was filthy. If Luso scratched his skin with his fingernails, old layers of skin would peel off in black rolls and when he tried to comb his hair, many of the thin brown strands would be stuck together by small lumps of dried blood.

Yes, old blood. He couldn't get it out. No matter how hard he scrubbed with the piece of soap, his hands, his chest and his hair smelled faintly of iron and sweat. Luso didn't even try to clean the lump of leather, metal, and blood that was his armor. If his own skin couldn't be properly cleaned then there was no chance his old armor could be washed out.

Yet despite all the grime and blood, the most intriguing tidbits about his body were the scars. The first few brown splotches on his arms, he paid little attention to. The rips in his chest and on tear on the back of his head disturbed him a little bit more, especially as Isaac had once told him that most wounds quickly treated with a vulnerary or with healing magic would not scar. But the most grievous wound was one not inflicted with a sword or club-scorched onto his back was a long brand, not a holy mark like the mark of the Exalt Chrom proudly displayed on his shoulder, but a burn scar along the side of his spine, left behind from what seemed to be from an iron poker.

When he touched it gently, flashes of memory flowed into his mind like a thick haze. Once or twice, Luso had reached out trying to "recall" Matthew's past. Every time he had done so, the crystal buried under his flesh, the artifact which bound his very soul to his body, would glow a hazy blue and the old memories would be flushed away. Yet he could still feel a few sensations: his side burning for instance, was the most common "memory" he felt.

Although it was interesting, in the end that was all it was -a curiosity. Luso had no intention of living as Matthew. He had his own life he was to lead. What he was in the past would not change how he would move forward. But the burning sensation bothered him. The crystal was called an "Aum" crystal if he remembered it correctly. Perhaps he should try to ask around about it. Common sense dictated that he ask a magician about these sort of matters; maybe he'd talk to Miriel when she came back.

After he finished cleaning himself, Luso was mildly surprised to see that Frederick had left out a new set of clothing and a towel. Apparently, the knight's astuteness was not only limited to matters involving Chrom. After putting on the tunic and folding up his old tattered up armor, Luso strapped his sword belt on tightly and walked down the path to the Shepherds garrison.

The Shepherd's Garrison was an old estate that the royal family had purchased off of a noble. It had a fairly large stable to hold animals, a re-purposed garden in which soldiers could practice weapon techniques, and its old stone walls were capable of housing at least fifty people.

By the looks of it though, it seemed to be nearly empty, although there could be more people indoors. Only one person was training in the garden, a green haired man who attacked a straw training dummy with a wooden sword. A gentle breeze blew across the fields, and over a sandy fenced off sparring area. It brought a chill down Luso's spine.

"You're Luso, right?" the man lowered his weapon before stretching out his hand. "I'm Stahl, Frederick told me Chrom had recruited new Shepherds,"

Luso nodded and firmly shook the offered hand. "Right, but the only one you'll get for now is me. Robin is with Chrom and Lissa."

"I'll introduce you to the rest of the group," Stahl said as he wiped away some sweat from his forehead. "But until we have dinner we probably won't have everyone together. Quite a few of us are out on patrol right now actually. If you want, I'll show you around the Barracks and all."

"That would be great."

"Alright, then let's get started." Stahl grinned. "Shall we start with the kitchens, dining area, or store house?"

"Are you hungry Stahl?"

"I don't know, are you?"

Luso said. "If you're hungry, then eating early isn't a problem."

Stahl replied as he returned his practice sword into a slot in the wall. "Let's get to the kitchens and grab an early dinner then. I'll explain a few things on the way there. Well, first let me ask you something-did Chrom mention what group you're in?"

Luso bit his lip and clutched his old armor tightly with both arms. "Ah, no actually,"

"Alright, then you're probably in my squad, we needed a replacement for quite a while now." Stahl nodded. "Do I need to explain our current group system?"

"The Shepherds operate in individual hunter-killer groups of about three or four people per squad. Each small band of Shepherds acts as an independent unit to eliminate isolated groups of bandits." Luso recited from memory.

"Exactly," Stahl said as he pushed open the door to the kitchen. "That flexibility is what allows us to operate so effectively. Captain Chrom leads the first group, with Princess Lissa and Frederick. Sully leads the second group consisting of her and Virion."

"Does that group include Miriel?" Luso asked. "I saw her actually while I was in Southtown actually."

"Miriel's a Shepherd but she isn't really a part of any major squad. She pretty much joins in whatever group feels that magic may be necessary at some point during a mission." Stahl said. "I'm pretty sure there's a third person in Sully's group, but I can't seem to remember who he is right now."

"What group are you in Stahl?" Luso asked.

The green knight smiled as he looked over the selections of pastries and baked goods that were left in the Garrison's kitchens. He picked up one loaf of bread and cheese and started to scarf away on it. "Vaike's group. He's a scrapper, and a bit headstrong so I think you'll get along with him quite well. We lost our third member, a mage, in a pretty recent mission though, so Miriel's been popping in every now and then to substitute."

"Wow, there aren't that many people in the Shepherds, are there?" Luso asked as he picked up his own loaf of bread and stole a tiny amount of cheese from Stahl.

"Ylisse is a peaceful realm, there's no need for too many of us yet. If things get dicey, Chrom will recruit more of us. Besides, we have more than just the official members." Stahl chuckled. "We've got plenty of unofficial Shepherds too. Maribelle, a healer from Themis isn't technically a member of the Shepherds but she's here so often she has her own room in this building. Sumia and Cordelia are members of the Pegasus knights who tend to work us with more often than not. We also have Ricken; he's a nice kid and pretty talented at magic but he's still a bit young to be fighting for real."

"I see..." Luso said as he chewed slowly on the simple lunch. The bread was surprisingly crusty, flakes and pieces breaking off in his mouth.

"We're strong enough, don't worry." Stahl nodded.

"You mentioned that I'll be joining you and Vaike, and I already met you for the lack of a better term," Luso said."So what's he like?"

Stahl yawned as he pushed aside his empty plate. "Old… teach… I suppose I should call him. He's a very passionate man. He isn't the brightest guy, but he'll push us forward no matter what. We have to rein him in when he gets a bit too competitive when it comes down to mission counts."

"That's good," Luso said. "It's better to have someone like that then some nasty schemer."

"Agreed," Stahl chuckled. "Though I don't think you could go too wrong with anyone here. None of us are bad people I would hope."

Luso pushed aside the remains of his lunch. "Not all of us."

"I'll take the leftovers if you don't want them." Stahl said, eyeing the ignored plate. "Do you want them?"

"Go ahead." Luso said as he closed his eyes. "Just tell me if there are some hoops that I have to jump through in order to be fully accepted."

"None at all," Stahl chuckled again, this time a little louder and deeper. "Well, you will have to train with us."

"That's expected." Luso remarked, unsure exactly where Stahl was taking the conversation.

"Which means you'll have to do Frederick's Fanatic Fitness hour after he comes back from delivering his report to the Exalt. Consider it your right of passage. Make it through without vomiting or fainting and you'll have made a new record." Stahl said. "I'll show you to your room. Try to make it a bit cozier, maybe move some things around so it doesn't bother you."

"Is it that bad?"

"Some swear it's the devil and collapse ten minutes in. Others manage to power through somehow. I personally manage to deal with it." Stahl shrugged. "And don't worry about weapons for now, we'll worry about then when we're going out on a mission. For now, just focus on training and getting accustomed to the group. Not the best advice, I know but it's all I can offer."

"Alright, so which room in this huge place do we sleep in?" Luso asked. "Is it shared rooms or what?"

"Ah, we actually have plenty of unused rooms. Originally there used to be a lot of servants that worked here but we Shepherds pick up after our own messes." Stahl said. "Some rooms still have two or three beds but we have plenty of space. If you want your own room we can do that though it will probably have to go through Frederick first."

"So what should we do now?" Luso said. "Take a tour around the place?"

"Frederick will probably stay at the barracks in the palace after giving his report, and Vaike won't be back from his errands till tomorrow." Stahl said. "I'd say sleep in the guest room for now, and get well rested for tomorrow; though if you want to practice together..."

"I'll be fine." Luso raised his hand nervously. "It was a rough day today... I just want to sleep a bit early today if you don't mind."

"Alright, there's a room five doors down the hallway on your left." Stahl said. "Until we make permanent arrangements use that one. Sleep well."

"Good night Stahl," Luso said, glancing through the window as he left the kitchen. The sun was slowly falling, a bright orange orb in the clear sky. "Or should I say good afternoon?"

"To me, night is whenever you fall asleep; take that from a sleep connoisseur." Stahl chuckled. "See you in the morning."

* * *

It didn't take long for Luso to adjust to the Shepherd life. Firstly it was far less of a shock than his transition from a relatively average life to a murderous bandit that lived in the woods. The first few people he killed changed his life more than any difference in sleeping arrangements could. In the mornings the Shepherds would train together, and in the evenings they would receive missions that they would execute the next day.

For a while, it seemed as those halcyon days would last forever. They stayed until that fateful announcement in the middle of a training session... From that point forward, there would be no time to rest.

* * *

**Farewell (Canon Bonus Scene)**

The few bandits who were too wounded to participate in the Southtown raid were lying about in various states of unconsciousness in the woods, where they had set camp. Although their presence bothered Frederick, they were of no concern to Luso. His eyes only searched for a single form that was lying next to a fallen tree; a magician who was still sleeping, his cloak wrapped around him tightly.

"This is the friend you mentioned, right?" Lissa hopped up and down as she peered at Isaac's face. "Ah, do you want to wake him up?"

"He actually hates Ylisseans," Luso laughed nervously. "I suppose you could, but I'd rather you didn't."

"He hates Ylisseans?" Chrom said.

"He's a nice guy." Luso interjected. "It's kind of hard to explain, actually."

"So you're going to just drop a concoction off next to him and run away?" Lissa grumbled. "At least leave him a note. I mean, he's got a spell tome, he can read."

"Could you quiet down a little, we're lucky he's a heavy sleeper but keep on shouting and even he'll wake up." Luso said, as he picked up Isaac's hand and squeezed it ever so slightly. "But... yeah. I suppose write a note. But I have no idea what to tell him. That I joined the Shepherds? A group of Ylissean soldiers of all people?"

"Maybe you could tell him that you're alive?" Chrom offered. "Even if he doesn't know exactly what happened, it would give him peace of mind."

"If he truly hates all Ylisseans, then maybe we should give him peace of mind, here and now?" Frederick said. "If we let him be, then perhaps he will-"

"We don't kill people while they're sleeping." Chrom said. "If he wakes up, and after we explain the situation, he attacks then-"

"If that's the case, then let's do this as quickly and as quietly as possible." Luso grimaced. "Lissa are you writing something?"

"It's a simple note," Lissa said as she handed the mercenary a scrap of paper. "That you're alive, healthy and have no limbs missing."

"That will have to do," Luso said as he pulled Isaac's robes just a tiny bit, and tucked a vulnerary and Lissa's note and slipped them in between his shirt and bandaged chest.

"See you Isaac," Luso whispered. "I'm sorry for leaving you behind."


	9. Frozen Land

_"Sure, Teach just did twenty two push ups and didn't break a sweat! I'll be glad to spar with the new guy."_

Doing twenty two pushups and not breaking a sweat usually isn't something to brag about. Most reasonably fit people could do such a feat without a moment of hesitation or fatigue; that is, if the pushups weren't Frederick pushups.

A normal pushup generally entails supporting one's body weight and lowering oneself onto the ground and pushing back up to a cadence.

A Frederick pushup is different. Frederick would order a trainee to enter into a "push up" position and place two heavy sandbags onto his or her back. On top of these sandbags Frederick delicately placed a glass of water. If one spilled the water during the push up, then the push up did not count and the person enduring this torture was forced to maintain the position they were at when the water spilled while Frederick sauntered down to the cook tent to get another glass.

In short, someone who could legitimately boast that they could do twenty two Frederick push-ups without breaking a sweat was very, very strong. Vaike was one of the few people who could make that claim.

The spiky haired blonde was built like a bodybuilder who spent their free time wrestling bears on the mountainside. A single blow from his training axe had enough force to crack ribs and soon Luso came to regret declining armor in their sparring match.

"I give, I give! No more, I think you busted my stomach..."

Vaike placed his training axe on his shoulder and chuckled for a few seconds. He reached out and grabbed Luso's outstretched hand and pulled him to his feet, before slapping him on the back hard enough to send him toppling. "Come on, Lus, is it really that bad?"

"Yes." Luso groaned. "I think you broke a rib or something. You hit far too hard in sparring matches you know?"

"Can't hold anything back in a man's fight can we?" Vaike laughed. "Come on, don't set yourself too short. Think about how many times you managed to dodge my strikes before I got that blow on ya? It's like fighting in the ghettos all over again."

"Yeah, well I need to see a healer." Luso said. "Wonder if Lissa can spare the use of a heal staff. I don't think bandages will be enough in this case."

"Probably not, but we can probably nab a vulnerary after Sully comes back with a new set of supplies from the market." Vaike rubbed his chin. The fighter savagely grinned as he pulled his arm back. Luso stumbled as Vaike's axe whistled past his ear, barely missing the side of his head.

"When you're in class you always have to pay attention to the Teach." Vaike said.

"I thought this session was over!" Luso lashed out with his wooden sword. The tip of the blade swiped across Vaike's chest and thigh, but the man was seemingly unfazed by the blow.

"The enemy isn't going to wait after you get am injury like that, and neither will I!" Vaike said. He swung his axe three times. The first two times, Luso backed away and ducked under the blows. The third impacted the swordsman on the side of his head, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

"Sorry Vaike," Luso said. "I think that if the enemy got one on me like that, I'd be dead."

"Then up for round two? I've got a few tricks I want to test."

"Even if I refused, you'd still do it anyways, right?" Luso mumbled, still lying face down in the dirt. "Chrom's a far better swordsman than I am. Why not challenge him instead? He's even right on the training field, right now actually. Go ahead; I'll… be…taking a nap…"

"That's a fine idea Lus. Hey Chrom, are ya here too spar? Bet old teach can take you down this time!"

"Not today Vaike," Chrom said, as he opened a small scroll. "I'm here to announce a new mission for the Shepherds. In the morning we'll be marching up to Regna Ferox,"

Robin looked up from the arcane book he usually kept tucked under his arm. He underlined a passage and scribbled in a note. "Regna Ferox?", he said eventually, as if it was only an afterthought.

"A kingdom of barbarians to the north; well historically speaking at least, they're settled down nowadays though." Stahl said.

"Sounds interesting," Robin said. "A far cry different from the usual bandits, isn't it? What's the occasion?"

Chrom shrugged. "It's a diplomatic mission. As the Prince of Ylisse, I have to perform such tasks from time to time. Alright everyone, this one is volunteers only so…"

* * *

"Remind me again why I volunteered for this mission again." Robin said. He shivered as he wrapped his coat around his body even tighter. In the end all three teams of Shepherds had decided to accompany Chrom on his journey north, alongside a pair of Pegasus knights. Robin had glanced over the documents and decided that two full teams were capable of defending the convoy, while the third trio was capable of scouting out the area.

His reasoning had been that if someone was critically injured, out of the other two, one could seek help and the other could provide emergency care for the fallen.

So far the plan had worked. In the morning Miriel toppled headfirst into a frozen river while musing about how the water beneath the ice had remained liquid. Sully had managed to contact the convoy and Virion of all people gave the magician his coat. Lissa had to spend the next ten minutes sitting with the archer in the convoy making sure his fingers didn't snap off; but that was beside the point. Then, Vaike's patrol had encountered a group of bandits impersonating the Shepherds and Luso had run all the way back to the main caravan with an arrow still stuck in his shoulder to relay the information.

The good news was by the time the Feroxi guard had arrived, the bandits had been mostly eliminated. In fact, Raimi, the leader of the Feroxi guard, was so impressed by the Shepherds that they offered a full escort to the Northfort.

The bad news was that the Feroxi Guard was rather abnormal when it came to the speed they considered normal travel. As such, Robin was panting like a dog and uncharacteristically grumpy as he pushed his way through waist-deep snow.

"A diplomatic mission, I told you." Chrom said, seemingly oblivious to the freezing weather.

"But for what? What exactly are we trying to get out of this frozen **wasteland**?" Robin grumbled. "Forced marches and dead bandits?"

"It takes hearty people to live here you know; the Feroxi are fine warriors," Chrom said. "With the new threat of the Risen, Ylisse needs forces capable of driving them back."

"Yes they may be fierce warriors, but the Risen and the bandits alone can't be why we're here." Robin said. "There's something missing. Ylisse could easily train enough forces to take down any risen attacks. Even the local militia was able to deal with the last two uprisings of risen. I think that it has to do with far more than that."

"Like what?"

"I went over most of the reports of bandit activity while I was in the palace." Robin noted, as he flipped through the pages of his wizened tome. "If we look at the rate of bandit activity, we can see it steadily increasing; Ylissean and Plegian border relations have been declining just as fast. Chrom, I want to ask you something. Do you think that a war will… well, start between Ylisse and Plegia?"

"That's a dangerous conclusion to make Robin." Chrom noted. "What makes you think that way?"

"It is what I would have done," Robin said. "I've seen how strongly Exalt Emmeryn believes in peace but just because one believes in something doesn't mean it will pan out the way one expects. The appearance of the Risen are an appropriate excuse to start bolstering one's defenses, while still being able to plead for peace. It's what I'd do. Offer my right hand but keep a knife in the left."

"Some would argue that building up one's forces or keeping weapons handy are signs of distrust."

"Better they think that, than the alternative happening." Robin said. "Your sister actually is a craftier person then she looks. Ylisse can appear be a realm of peace. It does not need to have warriors to maintain the peace, only the support from a nation that does."

"If you're right Robin, if there is a war, what will you do?"

"What do you mean Chrom?" Robin asked.

"While you were looking for reports on bandits, Frederick went searching through the archive for anything that could resemble your garb." Chrom said. "He said that that particular style of coat is fairly common among Plegia. This doesn't only involve you; Luso also has a Plegian accent. If Ylisse and Plegia go to war, you could fight against your countrymen, your friends, maybe even your family."

"Chrom, my memory is gone. I could kill my own father and not realize what I've done. If I can't even recall that much, do you think I'll be loyal to something as abstract as a nation? Do you think that my heritage will change how I stand for you?"

"Blood and origins have no meaning to me." Chrom said. "Who one's father is or what nation one belongs too does not change one's worth. I...I know that better than most."

"Were the Plegian crusades truly that horrific?" Robin asked. "I've looked over those reports in the palace as well and…"

"They were. I know not what my father was thinking, nor why he chose to do such an action but nothing can ever justify what he did." Chrom said. "Please don't press any further, Robin."

Robin hesitated. "Chrom-"

"Don't. The Northfort is just ahead. Let's meet the Khan."

* * *

"How is this place so warm?" Luso said. "I can actually feel my fingers; how much wood does it take to keep it at this temperature?"

Raimi chuckled, "Actually, none. The Northfort is built into the mountain pass that runs all the way through Ylisse and Plegia. Within those mountains is the Graveyard of Fire Dragons. The warm air from that particular region flows through the caverns and eventually into here."

"The Graveyard of Fire Dragons?" Luso asked. "That sounds a bit ominous."

"It's where Fire Manaketes go to die after they are gripped with madness from over-using their dragon stones." Chrom said. "They remain in dragonic form for the rest of their existence, protecting the corpses of their ancestors."

"Isn't having a pathway from Plegia of all nations into your forts a liability though?" Robin asked.

Raimi barked out a quick laugh. "It's a part of Anri's way, tactician, only ever traversed by Anri and the Hero King Marth on their respective quests to save the world from Medeus and the Earth Dragons." The knight said. "Anyone who would dare to march an army through the pathway would elicit the rage of feral dragons! Besides it's not like we don't have other defenses. Well, then, would you care to follow me to the Khan's chambers?"

With a sweeping motion, Raimi pushed open a set of heavy iron doors. Chrom, Robin and Frederick entered the carpeted throne room while the remainder of the group remained behind. After Raimi closed and latched the door, the rest of the Shepherds drifted away for one reason or another; Stahl wanted to find the dining hall, Miriel a library to read in, Lissa a place where she could finish fixing Virion's fingers, so on and so forth. In the end only Luso and Raimi remained standing awkwardly outside of the Khan's chamber, listening to the occasional hushed whisper that leaked through the door.

"I've never seen your fighting style before." Raimi said. "Are you self taught?"

"I believe I am." Luso said, glancing down at his worn shield. "Were you watching during that fight with the bandits?"

"I was, those second rates didn't deserve half of my attention. Your forms are intriguing. You have a natural gift you know: long arms, solid joints, decent strength. The only issue is your technique is full of holes, places where the footwork and the strokes could be improved. Those are telltale marks of those who taught themselves how to fight.

"If you're willing to teach me then be my guest," Luso said.

"I specialize in the use of the lance." Raimi said. "I wouldn't be able to teach you anything useful even if I tried. I was merely sizing you up, that's all."

"Do you do that to everyone, or am I special?" Luso asked.

"If I offended you, I apologize." Raimi shook her head. "Many conversations between soldiers in Ferox begin this way and I thought it was appropriate between warriors."

"The Shepherds are more of a peacekeeping force rather than an army." Luso said. "But I suppose you are right in your judgment. I'm not what you'd call the most graceful fighter."

"I still see you as a fine opponent." Raimi said. "Not the best I have ever fought, but certainly not the worst. If today had ended any differently, we may have dueled today rather than escorted one another into this fortress. It was lucky your forces sent scouts ahead. Had we encountered your group after those bandits rather than before we may have responded to your presence with swords drawn! Naga alone knows how it would have ended."

"It would have ended terribly for both Ylisse and Ferox, I'm sure." Luso said. "Imagine how both Ylisse and Ferox would have reacted if you had accidentally killed the Crown Prince of all people. We'd go from negotiating an alliance to war in a snap."

Raimi chuckled at the thought. "I would never be so foolish. I'd be a bit cautious, but not to the extent of attacking immediately."

Luso glanced down at his feet, gripping his wrists. "Maybe, but when I think back, I always see what I should have done. Not what I did. People do foolish things when under pressure."

"Are you questioning my ability to handle situations as the Captain of the Feroxi Guard?" Raimi asked. "That is a grave insult to make. Perhaps we will still have our duel."

"I didn't mean any offense." Luso said. "I was just thinking about myself, thinking about my own actions, my own mistakes. I've done plenty of things I regret."

"I jumped to conclusions myself right then." Raimi said. "Perhaps I would have made a mistake."

Luso looked at the knight then turned away, not quite sure about what to ask. Raimi did the same, standing stiff at attention in case anyone passed by in the mildly warm halls of the Longfort. For a moment, he leaned against the wall to try to hear whispers of the conversation that was going on within the Khan's chambers but the sound was too muffled by the door and wall hangings. Luso let out a long sigh as he stared at the wall.

"If you're bored you could always go visit the arena." Raimi said. "The tournament for the Khan will begin in a few days."

"Tournament for the Khan?" Luso asked. "Is it some tournament in which the victor becomes a khan? Is it an entrance exam for Khans or something?"

"Each Khan sends out a group of five Champions." Raimi said. "The Khan who sponsors the victors becomes the head Khan."

"Sounds exciting," Luso said. "Expect your side to win?"

"Not especially," Raimi groaned. "Last year, we didn't have enough talented foreigners to use as champions. Khan Flavia ordered me out to the field to substitute. The West Khan unveiled a group of sell-swords from the Garden of Giants. I still have quite a few scars from that encounter and quite a few memories. Forgive me for not being too enthusiastic."

"I …see?"

"Luckily enough, those sellswords moved on, so we won't be facing them at least." Raimi said. "But the East still doesn't have access to the sea of Valm, and so that means we don't have too many mercenaries to choose from. I'd say we'd be lucky to score two wins out of five with our current pickings. But just between you and me, I've got twenty pieces of gold on the East winning. Despite the odds, I have to show some support and the five to one payoff is tempting to say the least."

"So the odds are that low, huh." Luso said. "I guess I can understand why you aren't too excited then. If the West's champions are that skilled, I feel sorry for the poor guys who have to go up against them."

"Yeah, I might as well go to the victory feast after this shift is over. Its the only real support I can give them." Raimi said.

"Victory feast?" Luso asked. "But the tournament hasn't even started!"

"In Ferox, we celebrate before." Raimi said. "Before the battle, before the tournament, before everything really."

"That seems a bit strange."

The knight grinned and heartily clapped Luso on the back. "It's a concept foreigners rarely grasp. The tradition started from war! No matter how glorious a victory is, people will always die. Those who fall in battle deserve to bask in the glory and make merry just as well as the survivors. After we win, we usually have a drink after to forget the pain of loss of comrades."

"What if you lose?"

"Then we drink for the courage to try again. And if you fail because you're too drunk, that's when you really need a drink."

"I'm starting to think that you just really like drinking." Luso said.

"I wasn't the one who created the tradition," Raimi shrugged. "I just observe it. If you want someone who really likes to celebrate just look inside that room. Flavia can probably out-drink your entire company combined."

"Mmm…"

"We may as well get something good out of the damned tournament." Raimi said. "My shift is just about finished. Come on Shepherd, let's go get a drink."

"Are you sure? I may not be the best drinking companion."

"Are you telling me to drink alone?"

"I don't really drink that much alcohol though. I have no idea what I'll do or how I'll react!"

"Then we may as well try it out now," Raimi said. "I have the feeling that we'll be fighting side by side at some point and if you're going to celebrate victories and mourn defeats the Feroxi way you'll want some experience at least."

"My liver is screaming already." Luso said. "Let's do it."


	10. In the Colosseum

His stomach hurt. It wasn't like the feeling of skipping a meal or two, it was something far more painful. It was empty, growling every few minutes, clawing at the pit searching for anything to digest. A sea of corpses covered the ground, men in armor, men without. Sword and lances were embedded in some, arrows in others. Yet the gore didn't bother him. The drive for food overwhelmed anything else in his mind.

Numb to any perception of what exactly he was doing, Luso felt his hands patting around the corpse's packs, searching for something of sorts. He pulled a bag from a sticky puddle of blood and searched inside, finding a hard piece of bread and a lump of rancid cheese. He started to nibble on the bread, noting the taste of iron and salt. Something so hard it almost hurt his teeth to bite down.

_ "Boy, come here."_

Who said that?

_ "You're hungry aren't you. We will give you something to eat. Who would think one of those plegian dogs would be here of all places? Come on, come here."_

What?

_"Dog? He's a pup, a child. Just kill him already. It's not like he's going to be carrying anything useful."_

_ "Right. But we can get some fun out of it."_

_"It's a child, it's not even a girl. What fun are you talking about? It's pointless."_

_ "You know, they say these barbarians were famous for their arenas. Enough sand to make clean up easy and when nothing grows on these Naga cursed places they have to use the land for something."_

"Lus! Wake up!"

"Vaike, I doubt yelling will make him wake up if it failed the first two times. I'll draw the blinds and see if the light helps any."

"Stahl!"

"Wake up Luso, the sun's already up and Robin is promising two sessions of Frederick's training for anyone who's late."

Luso's eyes flashed open. He immediately regretted the decision. Whatever light was there from the torches, windows or what-not, it was bright enough to cause a headache. Some time between Raimi passing him the first mug and now, his head had swollen up and his throat rasped every time he took a breath.

"Gods, Luso's a lightweight. What did Raimi say that it took him to collapse? Two glasses? Looks like Teach will have to give him a lesson on holding his drink!"

"We have no idea how strong Feroxi liquor is. For all we know a teaspoon of the stuff could kill a bull."

"Well we have to get him up somehow. Stahl, your family runs an apothecary right? Do you know any hangover cures?"

Luso grunted as he raised his head. A man in a green robe passed him a cup of water. Luso fumbled just a bit as he drank, but otherwise managed the action just fine. It made his throat itch less at least.

"Stahl, Vaike." Luso mumbled, his head still throbbing. "What's going on?"

"We have no idea; the only thing we know is that Robin called a meeting." Stahl said as he refilled the cup with a pitcher. "We can't leave you behind. It's a good thing you fell asleep still in your armor because we don't have the time to get you changed. We have to go before he assigns us sessions of Frederick's fanatic fitness hour as punishment."

Luso said. "Sorry… go on ahead. I'm just a little bit dizzy right now."

"Dizzy or not, we still have to go. Robin's words, not mine." Stahl said. "Make sure to catch up."

"See ya later squirt!"

Luso stared at the wall blankly, before grasping onto it for support. His legs felt like jelly, crumpling under him as he slowly limped his way toward the bathroom. After throwing up in the chamberpot, probably a nice change of pace of some poor servant, he felt just a little bit better. Yet that dream he had still lingered in his thoughts.

It was nothing, Luso told himself. Just old remnants of who the bandit was before, nothing more. It would go away if he just forgot about his headache for just a few more hours.

* * *

He wasn't ever going to forget about it.

Not while he was standing in the bowels of an arena with a thundering crowd as dancing girls kicked up dust to the tunes of some minstrel.

"Do your best." Robin patted Luso's shoulder as he passed him by. "I suppose Vaike filled you in?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about Robin." Luso said. "Maybe Vaike can fill me in why, I don't know, a bunch of Feroxi just walked in and took my clothes off? I'm just glad they left something, otherwise this conversation would be a lot more awkward. Heck, if I didn't see Vaike and Frederick do the same thing, I would have run away faster than you could say-!"

"So Vaike didn't explain a thing. Wonderful." Robin groaned. "I'm going to have to repeat the lecture. Basically, we're going to make the East Khan the leader of Ferox in return for a military alliance-"

"Raimi told me how the Feroxi choose the Khan Regent." Luso groaned. "It's a tourney."

Robin nodded.

"Wonderful."

"It's not a question of if we're going to fight, it's a question of how." Robin said. "The rules of the tournament are actually fairly simple. Both sides receive select five people to send out onto the field. Traditionally they are called the scout, vanguard, army, captain and general. The scouts are the first to be deployed onto the field. The scout that loses is taken away and replaced by the vanguard, the vanguard that loses is replaced by the army, the army that loses swaps with the captain so on, so forth."

"So we send out fighters one at a time until one side caves in?"

"A little bit like that," Robin said. "It's a fair system. Luso you're the scout, Vaike's the vanguard, I'm the army, Frederick's the captain, and... well... we all know who our general is."

"Why did you choose me as a fighter though?" Luso asked. "I'm the newest member of the Shepherds. Wouldn't Stahl or Sully be a better choice than me in this regard?"

"No." Robin said. "If this was a normal fight perhaps I would, but not in a Feroxian tournament. In Ferox all but the top fighters of both sides are restricted to the provided equipment. Sully and Stahl are both knights. They are used to fighting on horseback and with their own personal weapons. They aren't suited for this kind of scrap."

"But I am."

"Precisely," Robin said. "We only have a few minutes left until you have to enter into the arena's chambers, so listen carefully. Keep the next fighters in mind when you suit up. Leave a lance or sword for Frederick and an axe for Vaike. You can't use a spell tome to begin with so I don't have to worry about that at least."

"Excuse me," One of the Feroxi said. "It is time. Any further discussions will be seen as a violation of the rules."

"One moment." Robin said. "Luso, winning isn't everything. Stay focused. Stay calm. If you think you're going to die, surrender. We can handle the rest!"

Something about the musty equipment room, from the iron bars to the weapons available seemed oddly familiar. It was full of the stench of blood, sweat and iron.

For weapons there was a pair of swords, one long and one short, an axe lying on a table with a thick knotted net as a table cloth of sorts to keep it from scratching the table and a lance leaning against the wall. Two racks of armor of various sizes and shapes were pushed against the side of the room but none of the rusted suits of chainmail seemed particularly light or sturdy.

"Take the least you can." Luso said. "Right."

His hands automatically reached for the fishing net and the shortsword. For armor he grabbed only a shoulder guard and a steel gauntlet. It seemed right. There were no other words to describe why.

After a few minutes of fiddling with the straps and adjusting his loincloth, Luso stepped forward into the steel cage which must have once held either wild beasts or slaves. He closed his eyes and waited as it was hauled into position; as he was raised onto a platform which was bare besides an iron gate with a roaring crowd just on the other side.

The sands of the arena were dirty. Luso could still smell blood. Hell, if he looked close enough he could still see it. The Feroxi did not clean the sand between bouts; they merely swept a new layer of grit over the bloodied parts.

Luso saw his opponent march onto the stage. The other man, Fenn, held in his brawny arms a steel axe and a buckler and carried himself in a way that indicated that he knew how to use his weapon. Besides a loincloth and a rusted brass helm, his opponent was naked and Luso could see the sheer amount of muscle and the number of scars the man possessed. This was no stranger to battle he was going to be facing. The two stared at each other for a few minutes, both sizing each other up, neither finding their opponent lacking.

Without a word, Luso raised his sword in salute. Fenn did the same.

* * *

"A sword and a net?" Khan Basilio said. "Hmph, it looks like your champions are trying to emulate the old gladiators and failed. He ought to use a lance not a short sword."

"Mmm..." Flavia murmured. "You shouldn't be so hasty. Look at him, he's a Plegian based on his skin tone. He's the right age too."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Basilio asked.

"Back during the Plegian subjugation, some Ylissean soldiers would spend their downtime hosting small gladiatorial bouts with captured Plegians." Flavia said. "Sometimes the soldiers were criticized for their brutality, but more often than not the commanders would look the other way."

"During the Plegian crusades that little sprog would have been a child!" Basilio said.

"-which explains why he chose those weapons." Flavia said. "Those who were involved with those games were cruel men. They kept the net as the helplessness of being tangled within it was exhilarating for the watchers, but the lance? The lance allowed for the fighter to keep their distance. A sword forces the wielder closer to their opponent. It makes the bout far bloodier then it normally would have been. I'd say my man is more likely to win. He has experience with these conditions."

"Do you think that a gladiator can beat a trained soldier?" Basilio laughed. "Fenn is a fine scrapper, and his skill with an axe is second to none. Perhaps your man was thrown into battle by barbarians but the fact of the matter is you have a crowd pleaser, someone trained to entertain rather than fight."

"Your men are trained for war. They are trained to move in units and take down enemies directly in front of them. In war, a man is surrounded by companions beside and behind him. They are not prepared for a foe that moves around quickly, or adequately uses the space around them. Watch Basilio. A someone like him does not fight fair."

* * *

The roaring crowd certainly did not make fighting any easier. The sound of Fenn's footsteps and war cry was drowned out in the midst of cheers and whistles. Distracted by the sheer amount of noise, Luso almost responded to Fenn's first attack too late.

Fenn raised his battle ax high in the air and roaring as he charged forward, he came as a wave of muscle and sweat. With an unnervingly well practiced motion, Luso swept the net across the sandy floor of the arena, kicking up the sand as he threw the net into his opponent's face. The long web of fibers tangled with the spiked helmet the axe wielder chose to wear. Still entangled with his opponent's armor, Luso pulled the fishing net as hard as he could, forcing the man to stumble.

Instead of pulling back, Fenn charged forward ramming Luso as hard as he could with his shoulder. Although he received a glancing blow from Luso's short sword, the fighter was satisfied with his action as the swordsman was thrown backwards onto the sand. There was hardly a moment for Luso to breathe or take in his bearings, his opponent had shaken off the net and was quickly advancing on him. Luso scrambled to his feet, barely in time to meet his opponent head on.

For all of Fenn's brawn and sheer strength, the man was unusually nimble. He danced, backing away after each of his strikes. Even when Luso's sword managed to scrape him, they were only superficial cuts, nothing which would severely hinder him.

When Fenn struck it had the force of a truck. After slipping up his footwork but once, Fenn's axe slammed into Luso's gauntlet. The metal groaned and buckled, his arm was wrenched and felt like it was almost torn from the joint itself, but it held. Luso backed away, his sword up. Frederick's words echoed in his mind.

_The swift movements of a blade will defeat the powerful strokes of an axe. _

When Fenn attacked, he would simply have to be faster. The axe came crashing down once again, but this time Luso slipped away to the side, nipping at his opponent's shoulder. As Fenn turned about to face Luso once more, the swordsman backed away once again. Both men crouched, daring the other to make the next move.

Luso struck first, but not in a way Fenn expected. He snatched up a handful of the sand and threw towards the soldier's face. As the man threw his arm up to protect his eyes and lashed out wildly with his axe, Luso dove for the net. He barely managed to grab a hold of it when Fenn charged forward weapon held high.

Whirling around, Luso threw the net over Fenn's arms. Fenn lost his balance due to the suddenness of the impact, Luso charged. The top-heavy fighter toppled over onto the ground. Luso steeled himself for the killing blow and-

**"Fenn is defeated! The East Khan's next champion will be Sir Fox of the Sea!"**

-dropped his sword. The boy shivered as he clenched his hands. As he helped Fenn to his feet, as he shook the laughing fighter's hand, Luso could not help but think that he would have killed him if the announcer had not roused him to his senses.

Hadn't he changed since he joined the Shepherds? Not even the tiniest bit?

No, a better question would be what changed to begin with? He was going to kill that man, not to survive, not out of pressure from the other bandits, but because it simply felt natural.

Those questions swirled within his mind as he reached down and picked up his sword; but they vanished the instant he picked up his net. The net was torn in half, ripped apart by Fenn's axe. As Luso threw the ruined net on the ground, Sir Fox stepped out onto the arena's sands garbed in platemail.

Fox pointed his lance towards Luso in salute. Luso did the same.

There was no time to think about frivolous matters. There was no time to prepare.

As Fox slowly lumbered forward, Luso could only back away further and further. The heavy armor prevented any slash from dealing any meaningful damage. Perhaps a thrust might pierce between the plates but once again, Frederick's words echoed in Luso's mind.

_ The reach of a lance will keep any sword at bay. _

The only thing Luso could do was escape. Fox continued to lumber towards him, lance pointed towards his throat but the swordsman continued to dart away. He ran, escaping from his opponent's reach. He ran until his breaths became ragged. He ran until Fox's lance tore into his shoulder and hip, rending his flesh from bone.

He fell on the ground. He felt the lance tip over his throat. He felt his heart beating inside his chest. He felt the blood flowing out of his numbed shoulder.

**"Luso is defeated! The next champion for the East Khan is…um.. The School Teacher Vaike of Ylisse?!"**

* * *

"Well, Fox certainly did well." Basilio chuckled. "He's just as invincible as ever, running around in that slab of iron. Can your next man break through that plate?"

"It seems that Vaike brought a hammer with him." Flavia said.

"A hammer?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Well, what do you expect?"

"That wasn't supposed to be in there." Basilio said. "I guess the carpenter hid it somewhere in the equipment room after he fixed the table. Someone is going to get a severe talking too."

"Either way it seems like this fight is in the bag." Flavia said. "If those muscles aren't for show, I have the feeling Fox may need a bit more than a standard healing staff."

A sickening crunch echoed throughout the arena.

"I don't think a mend staff will cut it." Flavia muttered. "Call for a recover."

* * *

Robin knit his fingers together as he strolled onto the arena floor. His opponent, Richard was an archer of some renown. He evidently deserved some of that renown as he bested Vaike with nary a scratch, firing arrow after arrow all while keeping his distance by darting back and forth.

Robin had observed that match carefully and imagined several ways he could achieve victory. He could rush the archer down with his sword. Such a method would also open him up to be shot at repeatedly as he approached. Even if he closed within melee range, the archer could simply turn and flee as he had done while fighting Vaike.

Was there another method? Any archer can be written off if he has no arrows. If there was a fire, or even a thunder tome available he could have used it to destroy his opponent's quiver. Naturally the only one available was a wind tome. While it could flatten a knight or a swordsman, a gust of wind could not deflect something which cut through the air like an arrow.

To an average mind, this scenario devolved into two options. He could chase after the archer while being shot at every so often, which would result in the battle being decided entirely by leg speed and whether or not the archer got a lucky shot in, or stop running to catch his breath and challenge him in a ranged duel which would be decided entirely by skill.

While flexibility was something Robin prided himself on, he always was the first to admit he was not the best choice in any role. For instance, one who devoted his life to the study of the mystic arts would surpass him in spellcasting. A swordsman like Chrom outclassed him when it came to particulars like fencing.

In short the second option was off the table. Yet to follow the first option, to leave everything up to luck, would be a disgrace to his profession. Was there are third option?

Ah yes, there was.

A split second after Richard finished his salute, Robin cast a simple wind spell. As the archer stumbled, the tactician switched to his sword and started to charge.

Richard turned and started to flee, trying to gain distance. He drew an arrow from his quiver and started to turn about when he saw from the corner of his eye Robin pull back his arm.

The second the archer turned his back, the tactician had thrown his sword. Richard never stood a chance. With a loud clunk, the sword's hilt slammed onto the back of the archer's skull knocking him on the ground.

"Please yield." Robin said, as he prepared a second wind spell. "Let's not make this more complicated. I've got two more opponents after you."

* * *

Chrom stepped forward onto the Arena. Every step he took crunched underneath his feet. The arena's sands had partially turned to glass where Robin was struck by Elan's thunder spell. The tactician had easily out-planned his first opponent, but lost miserably in the clean duel against his second.

Frederick had dealt with the Feroxi mage. Evidently all it took was a clean first strike. Chrom had never expected Frederick to be able to run that quickly, especially in rusted armor.

As Chrom approached the center of the Arena, he drew his sword. Falchion's blade gleamed a dusky gold in the torch-light.

His counterpart, Marth sheathed his rapier and tossed it aside and drew a second sword. The rapier had been Frederick's downfall this match. Having used a rapier countless times, Chrom knew every single movement Marth used to guide the slender blade through a tiny gap in Frederick's armor. He had known Marth was a gifted swordsman, especially after the events that had transpired with the Risen. He never expected the man to practice such a similar technique as he did.

"Marth, may I have a word before we fight?" Chrom said.

"You may."

"That technique you used was reminiscent of House Ylisse's royal fencing technique." Chrom's eyes narrowed as he eyed Marth's second sword. "And the sword you use now is identical to the Falchion. I am not quite certain of how you came across those two things, but I am certain that it deeply concerns House Ylisse in more ways than one."

"Perhaps it does."

"You've been a boon to my family and my country. I believe that you will do us no harm. But I still want answers. If I win this fight, will you give them to me?"

"And what if I win?"

"As I stand in this Arena, I fight for Khan Flavia as well as House Ylisse. For their sake and the sake of my people I will not fail."

"Ha, such arrogance." Marth muttered. "We will see who bests who!"


End file.
